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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27781222">Reintegration</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/cunzy4/pseuds/cunzy4'>cunzy4</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman &amp; Terry Pratchett</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, But it will all be okay in the end I promise, Crowley Was Not Raphael Before Falling (Good Omens), DiP Gabe comes to the Rep world, Everyone is mean to Gabriel, M/M, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Recovery, Sad Gabriel (Good Omens), Therapy, They do not like him there, fic of a fic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 08:07:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>22,753</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27781222</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/cunzy4/pseuds/cunzy4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone's lives are turned on their heads when Gabriel, thought to be long dead and gone, reappears in Heaven. </p><p>But this is not the cruel Gabriel they knew. This Gabriel has been broken from Aziraphale's trauma and abuse. He comes from a world where Project Trojan never existed, where there was a war that never happened and angels and demons are still enemies.</p><p>Gabriel needs help, but all of Heaven sees him as a villain. And the one person who could save him is the one who hates him most of all...</p><p>(A crossover fic of Repossession and Descent Into Perdition by dreamsofspike and Reparations by Dacelin)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Gabriel (Good Omens), Crowley &amp; Gabriel (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>105</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>87</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>DiP-Repo-verse Crossover Works</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Reappearance</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This little slice of tragedy came from the Discord server, where we apparently all spend our days coming up with new and horrible ways to torment Gabriel.</p>
    </blockquote><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Gabriel arrives in the Repo world. No one is happy about this.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This little slice of tragedy came from the Discord server, where we apparently all spend our days coming up with new and horrible ways to torment Gabriel.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They found him in Heaven.</p><p>To be specific, he was discovered in his former office by a low-ranking angel who happened to be passing by. If it was possible for an angel to have a heart attack, this one would have.</p><p>In no time, the angel had raised the alarm and the hallway was swarming with Power enforcers and curious passersby. The enforcers attempted to keep them out of sight of the office, but soon the news was flying through Heaven that Gabriel had been spotted. </p><p><em> Alive. </em> Even though thousands of angels had witnessed the Almighty’s judgment at the trial. They had all seen Gabriel condemned for his crimes and face his punishment. They had all watched as Gabriel was erased from existence.</p><p>And now it seemed that, impossibly, he was back. </p><p>Panic swept through the ranks. In the years since his death, Gabriel’s legend had been retold and exaggerated until his reputation had reached Lucifer-like proportions. The war and the Fall had faded enough from their collective memories that an Archangel who had enslaved and tortured a demon against the Almighty’s direct wishes had become the bedtime tale to frighten children.</p><p>If angels had children. Or bedtimes, for that matter.</p><p>Ever since the divine revelation that demons had never truly been the enemy, it was not uncommon to see demonic visitors in Heaven, and vice versa. Old acquaintances found themselves reconnecting after thousands of years, love affairs both new and old began to appear, and the bridges that had been burned during the war were slowly being rebuilt.</p><p>But angels are simple creatures in the end, made for following authority, and they need to have a clear dividing line between Good and Bad. Since the demons no longer fell into the Bad category, something needed to fill that void. </p><p>That something was Gabriel. Most angels hadn’t known him personally, as the highest ranking angels didn’t interact much with the lower classes. Orders were passed down with his signature on them, his speeches were listened to in amphitheaters, and his door was allegedly always open to his underlings to help them with problems that were beyond their inferior angelic minds. Gabriel was a Presence, but not one to get close to. He wasn’t one you chatted with around the holy water cooler, not one you invited out with the gang on days off. He was Better Than You.</p><p>Some angels were angry at the hypocrisy from one who had constantly looked down his nose at them. His holier-than-thou attitude, pardon the phrase, had been hiding such horrific acts of cruelty, and still he had placed himself firmly on the highest pedestal of virtue. Other angels were frightened. Their role model and idol had turned out to be a monster, and no one knew who could be next.</p><p>The general consensus, though, was that Gabriel was The Literal Devil and was to be feared and hated. It was safe to hate such a fearsome figure, since he was gone and he was never coming back.</p><p>Until he came back.</p><p>The confusion outside Gabriel’s office was broken when Michael came storming through the milling angels and ordered them to disperse. She ignored all questions and shouted concerns, trusting her enforcers to keep the unruly mob in line.</p><p> No one had yet opened the door to Gabriel’s office, though everyone could see the unmistakable profile of his face through the windows. Michael hesitated, then threw open the door.</p><p>No one had gone into Gabriel’s old office since the trial. All the paperwork had been cleared out to use as evidence or filed away in storage. The bookshelves stood empty, the desk pristine without a speck of dust. No sign remained of the brutality that had been inflicted upon a certain demon in this room. Still, the memories remained, and those could not be cleaned away so easily.</p><p>The first thing Michael realized was that Gabriel was kneeling on the floor instead of sitting at his desk.</p><p>The second thing she realized was that he was naked.</p><p>Gabriel gave no indication that he was aware of her presence, staring downward silently with a blank expression on his face. The pose reminded her eerily of Crowley’s conditioned behavior before the trial. The conditioning that <em> Gabriel </em>had caused.</p><p>Part of her wanted to leave, slam the door, and hope it worked itself out. A much larger part of her wanted to smite Gabriel into oblivion right there and then. But the rest of Heaven looked to her for leadership and guidance, so she couldn’t give in to her angry impulses. She would have to be <em> diplomatic. </em></p><p>“What are you doing here?” she barked.</p><p>Gabriel looked up at her, his face crumpling into sadness. </p><p>“Answer me!” she shouted louder. Gabriel went back to staring at the floor, hunching in on himself protectively.He was the picture of a pathetic wreck, cowering on the floor like he was, and Michel wasn’t falling for it for a second.</p><p>"<em>Why </em>are you <em>here?" </em>She huffed in frustration, like she did every time she encountered a problem she couldn't solve with shouting or violence.</p><p>“I don’t know what you think you’re doing,” she growled, “but if you think you can just walk right back into Heaven with your <em> lies </em> and your <em> cruelty </em> and ruin everything all over again, you are deathly wrong. You should have known better than to <em> ever </em>come back here.”</p><p>An uneasy feeling spread across her chest the longer she stared at him, there was something <em> wrong, </em>but she couldn’t even begin to piece together what it might be. The kneeling, the submissive, fearful act... his hands, tightly clenched to each other, were shaking.</p><p>He was acting like <em>Crowley.</em> Any discomfort she may have felt was swallowed up by burning fury.</p><p>Michael swiftly approached him, gripping his shoulders and effortlessly pulling him to his feet. Startled, Gabriel’s eyes shot up to meet hers, now face to face. She glared at him, searching in his eyes for a hint of regret, remorse. Instead all there was to find was hollow emptiness, like looking at a stranger.</p><p>“How dare you?” her voice shook with barely repressed emotions, “how dare you come back?”</p><p>At last a spark of emotion flashed across his eyes. It was not the anger or indignation she was expecting, or the sadness that she was dreading. All she could see was acceptance. Warily he lowered his head, as if resigned to whatever Michael decided to do to him.</p><p>“If you think this pathetic act is going to make me feel sorry for you, it’s not working,” she growled. “Maybe you’ll feel like talking after spending some time in a prison cell. And for the love of all that’s holy, put some damn clothes on.”</p><hr/><p>“Why are you here?” Michael demanded. Gabriel, handcuffed at the table in his cell, didn’t respond.</p><p>“How are you <em> alive?” </em>she shouted in his face. Still no answer.</p><p>Michael was an angel of action, not words. Gabriel had always been the smooth talker, the one who could convince anyone to come around to his point of view. Michael, well… she was the type to punch a problem until it went away.</p><p>Not that punching Gabriel was an unappealing option. Even now, years later, the memory of his smug face during the trial when he confidently placed all the blame on Michael would flash into her head several times a day, more often than not causing her to smash whatever she was holding. She kept a coffee mug at her desk at all times for the express purpose of throwing against the wall every time she thought of Gabriel.</p><p>At the training ground, where Michael spent most of her time when she wasn’t trying to do both her and Gabriel’s jobs, she had added Gabriel’s stupid face to all the training dummies. </p><p>Gabriel’s stupid face, which was currently an inch from her own. Her brain finally caught up enough to notice that she’d lunged across the table and grabbed him by his shirt to scream in his face.</p><p>She released him and let him drop back into his seat, looking up at her like a kicked puppy. She would almost feel bad if it wasn’t such an obvious con. It wouldn't be the first time he'd attempted to play on others' sympathies.</p><p>He was lying. This quiet, broken version of Gabriel was all an act. It had to be. It was just a matter of putting pressure on him until the façade finally cracked.</p><p>And if there was one thing Michael was good at, it was cracking things.</p><p>“Who do you think you’re fooling?” she hissed venomously. “Did you really think any of us would fall for this? Do you want us to feel <em> sorry </em> for you? After what you <em> did?” </em></p><p>There were tears in Gabriel’s eyes, but he shook his head and said nothing.</p><p>Michael slammed her fist against the table, making him flinch back violently. “How did you survive?” she shouted. “Did you pull some <em> trick?” </em></p><p>His only answer was a confused shrug. Michael's rage boiled over again, and she fought back the urge to grab him by the hair and slam his face into the table. </p><p>“Well, if you won’t talk to <em> me,” </em>she said icily, “there are plenty of other angels who would love to have a word with you. Maybe you’ll feel like talking to one of them.”</p><p>With that, she swept out of the room. Her enforcers, still holding the nervous crowds at bay, were sent to pass on the information that Gabriel's interrogation was to be made public.</p><p>The reasons for this were twofold. If Michael couldn't force Gabriel to confess on her own, perhaps the combined force of multitudes of angry angels would be sufficient to make him admit the truth. Additionally, Michael and the other Heavenly administrators had learned a painful lesson about transparency from Gabriel's deceptions. If there were too many things happening behind closed doors, there was too much opportunity for one of them to start keeping secrets again. The Host had almost completely lost their trust in their so-called leaders. If Michael didn't want another full-scale rebellion on her hands, she needed to ensure that the rank and file angels could easily find out what their leaders were doing instead of expecting their blind faith.</p><p>Blind faith, the usual stock in trade for their kind, was in short supply these days.</p><p>Gabriel was questioned by dozens of angels. As soon as word got around that Gabriel was alive and in custody, there was a line of angels who wanted answers that stretched out the door of his cell. Half of them seemed to just want the opportunity to slap him.</p><p>Throughout it all, Gabriel remained completely silent.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Responsibility</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The world is going mad, again, and Michael is the one who has to deal with it.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey everyone! Sorry for the wait, I wanted to do the dream thing first but it was taking too long so I'm back to this and blah blah, here's more angst!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Michael paced back and forth like a prowling tiger in the confines of her office. All of Heaven was depending on her to deal with this crisis, and she had <em> no idea </em>what to do.</p><p>Her office door burst open. She whirled, ready to vent her frustration on whoever had dared to barge into her office without knocking, but she was beaten to the punch.</p><p>“Michael, what the <em> fuck?” </em>Raphael roared. </p><p>Michael was speechless. In all the time she’d known Raphael (aka eternity), she’d never seen him this angry. He was the most even-keeled of all the archangels, slow to anger and not easily rattled. He almost never raised his voice for any reason. And she’d <em> never </em>heard him curse.</p><p>“Care to tell me why half of Heaven seems to be in a panic?” he said more calmly, clearly fighting to keep himself under control. “Care to tell me why the name <em> Gabriel </em>keeps being thrown around?”</p><p>Michael recognized the look in his eyes. Snatching the mug off her desk, she passed it to him and then ducked as he hurled it against the wall. It shattered against the wall with a satisfying <em> smash. </em>She pulled the box of spare mugs out from under her desk and handed him another.</p><p>Soon enough, the box was empty and the floor was littered with shards of ceramic. Raphael stood with his fists clenched, breathing hard, but considerably calmer.</p><p>“It’s true,” she said after a few seconds of silence. “He’s back.”</p><p>Raphael made a furious noise. “Jgh- how? <em> Why?”  </em></p><p>Michael shook her head sadly. “I don’t have any answers,” she said. “He showed up in his office, I took him to jail, and I’ve been doing damage control ever since. He’s not <em> talking.” </em></p><p>“Like answering your questions? Or at all?”</p><p>“At <em> all,” </em>she said, frustrated. “He hasn’t said a word this entire time.”</p><p>“Okay, <em> that </em>might be the most unbelievable part of all this,” Raphael said, deadpan. “Since when does he ever stop talking?”</p><p>Michael didn’t laugh. “It gets worse. He’s not… acting normal. He- well.” She paused. “Do you remember how Crowley was when you first got to him?”</p><p>“You really think I could forget?” Raphael’s face darkened. “Are you saying he’s acting like… that?”</p><p>“He’s always on his knees. He keeps taking his clothes off. He was <em> naked </em>when we found him,” she said, frustrated. “He keeps giving me this sad puppy look, like he actually thinks I’d ever feel sorry for him.”</p><p>“You think he’s faking?” Raphael said.</p><p>“Of <em> course </em> he’s faking,” Michael snapped. “There’s no way this pathetic farce could be real. He’s just trying… I don’t <em> know </em>what he’s trying to do. But he clearly wants us to take pity on him by acting as miserable as possible.”</p><p>“What are you going to do?” he asked.</p><p>“I don’t know!” Michael yelled. “I’ve got an angel back from the dead, the Host is in a panic, God isn’t answering any questions, and everyone expects <em> me </em>to somehow fix this!”</p><p>She went for her mugs, but the box was empty. Instead, she grabbed her desk and flipped the whole thing over with a frustrated shout. Pens and clipboards were sent flying, papers gently drifting to the floor in the ensuing awkward silence.</p><p>“Sorry,” she muttered.</p><p>Raphael rested a comforting hand against her shoulder. “No, I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t put all of this on you. Just tell me how I can help.”</p><p>Michael sighed, leaning into the support. She hadn’t been able to admit to anyone how isolated she’d felt since losing Gabriel. He’d been self-absorbed and dickish most of the time, but he’d been her <em> friend. </em>She worked closely with him every day, and losing his constant presence felt more like losing a piece of herself.</p><p>Since then, she hadn’t let anyone get too close. She did her job and Gabriel’s rather than appointing someone else to fill the role. She attended meetings, delegated duties, and made small talk, but her heart wasn’t in it. It just felt like too much of a risk to be betrayed again, to lose a friend again. To <em> trust </em>again.</p><p>“Thanks,” she murmured.</p><p>Raphael squeezed her shoulder, then dropped his hand. “I don’t know what I’m going to tell Crowley,” he admitted.</p><p>Michael’s hand flew to her mouth. “Oh God, I didn’t even think about that,” she breathed. “Ohh, this is going to <em> destroy </em>him…”</p><p>Michael and Crowley did not often cross paths, but he was a frequent enough presence in Heaven that she still saw him around on occasion. He had been skittish around her at first, but had relaxed his guard over time. Michael, on the other hand, was never comfortable around him.</p><p>It wasn’t his fault, it was her own. Michael just couldn’t look at Crowley without all the memories rushing back. Gabriel’s descent into that strange madness, the betrayal, the trial… the execution.</p><p>Worse than the memories was the deep rush of guilt and shame she felt whenever she saw Crowley. Watching him standing upright, talking to people calmly… these were all grand achievements for him, and she was acutely aware of the reasons for this.</p><p>She’d seen it, and she’d ignored it. Crowley’s condition had been worse every time she saw him, far beyond the boundaries of the project that she and Gabriel had discussed beforehand. The torture, the mental conditioning, the utter dehumanization… she’d managed to justify it all to herself. Winning the war, she told herself, was more important than anything else. She would go to any lengths for victory, just as they all would. The casualties were meaningless.</p><p>Besides, who cared about some random demon, anyway?</p><p>As it turned out, a lot of people.</p><p>Things had been going so well. And then, in short order, Michael’s world had come crashing down around her. </p><p>Everything she’d known to be truth had turned out to be a lie. Gabriel betrayed her. God loved the demons and didn’t even <em> want </em>a war. For Michael, the ostensible leader of Heaven’s armies, this was a devastating blow. She’d lost her purpose. If she wasn’t meant to triumphantly lead the charge against Hell, then why did she even exist? Why had she been created? Angels weren’t random like humans were. Each and every one of them had been created for a singular purpose.</p><p>So what was hers? </p><p>“Crowley will be fine,” Raphael reassured her. “He’s stronger than you think. And so are you,” he added, reaching up to tuck some stray hair behind her ear. From anyone else, it would have seemed condescending, but Raphael was always sincere.</p><p>“Come on,” he said. “Let’s go find out what we’re dealing with.”</p><hr/><p>Angels paraded in and out of the cell all day, most of them aggressive with their words and hands. Through it all, Gabriel waited silently, patiently.</p><p>He was waiting for Aziraphale.</p><p>Aziraphale was coming, he knew. He would be here sooner or later. And then Gabriel would face a reckoning for his behavior while he was gone.</p><p>This was all a test, Gabriel was sure. A confusing, frightening test with undefined objectives, but just another test. A test he was determined to pass.</p><p>He wasn’t wearing the watch. That was the scariest part of all. He didn’t know where it had gone, or how he would be able to convince Aziraphale that he hadn’t taken it off on purpose, but he knew it would make no difference. </p><p>He hadn’t seen Aziraphale since he’d arrived in Heaven, but he didn’t fool himself into thinking he was in the clear. Aziraphale was always watching. He always knew when Gabriel had done wrong. If Gabriel slipped up, he would <em> know. </em></p><p>Therefore, Gabriel simply had to not slip up. He would prove, to Aziraphale and himself, that he was capable of being more than a constant disappointment.</p><p>Part of the test included Michael forcing him to put his clothes back on and sit at the table every time she entered the room. It drove her up the wall that every time she turned her back, she would find Gabriel undressed and kneeling on the floor again.</p><p>But no matter how many times she yelled at him, or hit him, he still returned to his penitent position on the floor like he deserved. No matter what she or the rest of the host did to him, Gabriel was determined to protect them.</p><p>Part of him knew that he should be humiliated that the other angels were seeing him like this, and he should take the offer of clothing and a seat at the table in order to preserve some tiny semblance of dignity. But he wasn’t about to fall for that trap. If he cared what the other angels thought of him now, if he gave in to his pride and his vanity, Aziraphale would make him pay for it soon enough. Part of him still resented Michael for offering him the temptation of the beautiful suit, but he knew it was his own fault and he fully deserved the consequences that had come after. It wasn’t Michael’s fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault but his own. </p><p>Everything was his fault.</p><p>Gabriel didn’t know what he’d done to turn Michael against him. </p><p><em> “I don’t know what’s going on with you,” </em> she’d said the last time they spoke. <em> “But I promise I’ll do everything I can to help once you’re ready to let me. I’ll be here when you need me.” </em></p><p>Gabriel didn’t understand why she’d changed her mind. He remembered the last time he saw Michael, how gently she had spoken, how softly she had touched him, and how warm her eyes had looked filled with nothing but worry for her brother. He now stared into the same eyes and found nothing but a stranger glaring back.</p><p>Still, Gabriel hung on. He didn’t want anyone else to be hurt because of his own misbehavior. Once Aziraphale arrived and saw how good Gabriel was being, he might reward him with a reprieve from the usual pain. Maybe he would even give Gabriel a hug.</p><p>Maybe that would also help ease the sick pit of fear that had been growing inside him since he’d been unwillingly sent back to Heaven.</p><p>Gabriel was lost in the fantasy of Aziraphale’s arms around him, stroking his hair and calling him a good boy, and he almost missed the door opening again. </p><p>“Gabriel,” Michael said.</p><p>Gabriel looked up automatically, only to see that she wasn’t alone. Stopped in the doorway, staring down at him with equal parts surprise and anger, was Raphael.</p><p>Gabriel hadn’t seen Raphael in centuries. Not since… well. Gabriel had always held Raphael responsible for their falling out. </p><p>“His choices are his own,” he would explain to any angel who asked where Raphael had gone. “If he’s decided he no longer wants to work in service of the greater good of Heaven, I hold him no ill will. I wish him the best, wherever he is.”</p><p>How supercilious and condescending he’d been, under the guise of magnanimity. He’d put on such a kind and understanding facade for Raphael’s departure, while at the same time taking no responsibility upon himself for the fight that had led up to it.</p><p><em> I’m the bigger person here, </em> his actions had said. <em> He was in the wrong.  </em></p><p>And if his subtle indictment of Raphael’s actions served to discourage the other angels from following in his footsteps, all the better. </p><p>Gabriel didn’t know which far-off star system or alternate plane of existence Michael had found Raphael and dragged him back to Heaven from, but he was here now, quickly covering his emotions with a mask of neutrality.</p><p>“Let’s see what we have here,” Raphael murmured, crouching down to face Gabriel. He reached out to touch Gabriel’s face, but stopped when he noticed Gabriel’s suppressed flinch. He took a long moment to stare at Gabriel suspiciously.</p><p>Gabriel had always hated it when Raphael scrutinized him so closely. It had been part of what led up to their fight, the fact that Gabriel always felt like he was being dissected under that intense gaze. It got under his skin, making him feel like he was always being judged and found wanting.</p><p>Of course, that had been back when Gabriel had been too arrogant to ever believe that there could be any part of him that bore improvement. If he’d been willing to listen to people like Raphael back then, perhaps Aziraphale would have never had to resort to such extreme measures to correct his behavior.</p><p>Gabriel held perfectly still as Raphael’s fingertips made contact with his cheek, then recoiled back.</p><p>“Oh, dear Lord,” Raphael breathed. </p><p>Abruptly he stood, grabbing Michael by the arm and dragging her out of the room for a hushed but intense conversation in the hallway. Gabriel could only make out a few scattered words.</p><p>“...prolonged torture… Hellfire burns all over… <em> yes, </em>I’m sure… this kind of pain… not since Crowley…”</p><p>Neither of the angels in the hallway missed the way Gabriel’s head jerked up at Crowley’s name. Michael glared at him suspiciously.</p><p>“None of this is important,” she declared. “Raphael, can he speak or not?”</p><p>Raphael frowned at her, then back at Gabriel. “There’s nothing physically preventing him from speaking,” he finally said. “All his prior injuries have been healed, though not by a healer with any particular skill. But that’s not the only-” </p><p>“So he could have been answering our questions all this time, and he’s just being difficult,” Michael interrupted with a scowl.</p><p>“Perhaps,” Raphael acknowledged. “Or maybe you haven’t been asking him the right questions.”</p><p>“It doesn’t matter whether he can’t or won’t tell us what we need to know,” Michael said. “Raguel can get all the answers out of him. Unless you have a problem with that?” She raised an eyebrow at Raphael.</p><p>Raphael shot Gabriel a long, searching look. </p><p>“No,” he said. “I don’t.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I always wondered what Michael's thoughts were at the end of Reparations, so here's my idea of what they were.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Realization</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The penny drops.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The line of angels visiting Gabriel’s cell to terrorize him had dropped off overnight. Maybe they had all found better things to do. It wasn’t like he was worth anyone’s time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Michael glanced into his cell occasionally, but didn’t say anything. She didn’t even try to force him to put his clothes on anymore, which Gabriel appreciated.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale still hasn’t shown his face yet, but Gabriel knew better than to let his guard down. He couldn’t afford any slip-ups. If Aziraphale wanted him to wait, then he would wait as long as it took until Aziraphale saw fit to come for him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This, at least, was familiar territory for Gabriel. Waiting silently on the floor was one of the few things he could do properly. He was being </span>
  <em>
    <span>good </span>
  </em>
  <span>right now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was as close as he got to being happy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gabriel was content to wait on the floor until Aziraphale came for him, shifting occasionally to relieve the cramping in his legs. The chill of the stone floor seeped into his bones. He almost missed the bookshop. The warmth, the clutter, and the soul-crushing terror of it all had become more familiar to him than his own “home” in Heaven, where he no longer truly felt he belonged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was passing the empty hours by rehearsing his litany of sins in his head, ready to impress Aziraphale as soon as he arrived. He stopped once he realized that he was mouthing the words silently, unsure if that would constitute a punishable offence but unwilling to take the risk. Aziraphale was </span>
  <em>
    <span>always </span>
  </em>
  <span>watching.</span>
</p><p><span>In lieu of working to keep his mind occupied, Gabriel allowed himself to sink into semiconsciousness. Often, after interminable hours left alone in agony, Gabriel’s mind would become muffled, as though he was wrapped in layers of heavy darkness. It felt like drowning and suffocating at the same time, but it distanced him from the pain and the terror and lulled him into a state that almost</span> <span>felt like peace.</span></p><p>
  <span>He wasn’t quite asleep. Every time he drifted too deeply, some instinctual warning signal jolted him back towards consciousness. Sleeping was too dangerous. Everything was dangerous. But with his mind floating in the deep darkness, it didn’t seem to matter so much.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A harsh slap to the face woke him from his trance. His heart clenched in fear that he had been caught being inattentive </span>
  <em>
    <span>(and lazy and worthless can’t you ever do anything right you useless waste of-) </span>
  </em>
  <span>until he belatedly realized that it was Michael scowling down at him, not Aziraphale.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Last chance, Gabriel,” she said coldly. “Are you going to tell us why you’re here, or do we have to do this the hard way?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gabriel looked up at her helplessly. He didn’t have the answers she was looking for. And even if he did, nothing they did to him would be worse than what Aziraphale would do if he </span>
  <em>
    <span>told. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Michael waited a beat, then nodded as if this was what she expected. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright,” she said. “Just remember, you brought this on yourself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Michael backed away as Raphael and another angel entered the room. It took Gabriel a moment to recognize Raguel.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A spike of fear drove itself into his heart. Raguel’s presence could only mean one thing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Justice. By any means necessary.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raguel had sent him an angry memo shortly after the attempted executions, thoroughly castigating him for sentencing an angel to death without consulting her beforehand. She’d reminded him that although he was the head of administration, he was by no means the highest authority in Heaven, and summary executions in no way fell under his purview.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gabriel had laughed at her accusations that he had overstepped his authority, crumpled up the memo, and thrown it in the trash.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>How stupid and foolish he had been. Aziraphale had been right to topple him off of his self-important pedestal before he’d had the chance to do any more damage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gabriel had no authority anymore. And Raguel was about to pry his secrets directly from his brain, an interrogation against which there was no defense.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale had conditioned him to silence. In fact, he had gone to such great lengths to ensure that Gabriel would never inconvenience others with his obnoxious voice and pointless pontificating that he wasn’t sure he would be able to speak even if he wanted to. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But there was another rule, one that superseded all others. More important than the watch, more important than silence. A rule he was constantly reminded of by the scars on his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t tell anyone.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Raguel approached him, her face cold and implacable. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t let anyone find out.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Ever.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please,” Gabriel blurted, his voice hoarse from disuse. “Stop… please don’t…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raguel stopped, not seeming surprised that Gabriel had broken his silence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know what to do,” she said dispassionately. “Tell us why and how you’re here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t,” he begged, his voice cracking. “Please, you don’t understand…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then explain it to us,” she ordered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>can’t,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>he said desperately. He already knew it was too late. Raguel would show him no mercy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then you know what I have to do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She placed her hand against his forehead, and Gabriel found himself in another place.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <em>
    <span>He wasn't sure how much longer his legs would hold. He was standing on the tip of his toes, barely managing to bear his weight and hold his balance. If he glanced downward he could see just how badly his legs were trembling, how much they were struggling to hold him up. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>But that paled in comparison to the horror of what he would see if he turned his eyes upwards.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Hanging from the punishment bar, his wrists were locked in the now painfully familiar hellfire cuffs, with the not so familiar addition of sharp needles crowning along the upper edge, barely grazing his skin. Their sharp points promised that if any weight was added onto his wrists, if he allowed his legs to relax for only a moment, they would viciously plunge into him.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It was to help with his posture, that's what he'd been told. To learn to stay still. And he did, he barely moved a muscle as the whip ripped viciously into his back.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He bit his lip until he felt a warm trickle of blood flow down his chin, in an effort to smother the screams and whimpers that threatened to escape his traitorous lips. A steady stream of tears ran parallel down his face, as he squeezed his eyes shut and counted the seconds until this was over.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>It must be over soon, it must</span>
  <em>
    <span>.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>One way or another it will end, either he would pass the test, or his body would finally give under him. So he just kept counting, one more second, and one second more. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Soon it will be over, soon. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>7,547.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>7,548. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>7,549.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Finally, it stopped.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The unending fall of the whip ceased, laboured breathing the only sound that could be heard in the room. Gabriel almost sobbed in relief but held his tongue. Any sound, any sign of disobedience could set him off again, and he really couldn't take much more.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He was startled by the sound of something being placed on the desk, just out of his sight. The recognisable sound of the whip being put away helped ease Gabriel's mind. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Soon it will be over, not much longer now.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>When finally he heard footsteps approaching him again, Gabriel focused all of his attention on whatever he may want, in case of a silent order or command. But all he heard was the whistle of something cutting through the air. Quickly followed by the sound of breaking bone as the cane made contact with his left leg, causing him to finally lose his balance and release all his weight onto his wrists wrists.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Gabriel couldn't hold back the strangled sound that ripped itself from his throat as his vision went blank. It felt like he was falling, unending, into a dark void from which he had no hope of crawling out of. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Was this what all the fallen angels had felt the moment their grace was burned from their bodies, and they were pushed off heaven's edge?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>An unfamiliar surge of compassion strangled Gabriel's chest like thorny vines. The feeling itself was not strange, but he had never imagined he would ever feel such a thing for his fallen brothers and sisters. Another sign of what a blind fool he had been.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>When Gabriel came to, he was lying facedown on the floor. For a horrifying moment he couldn't feel his body at all, but slowly feeling returned to his limbs. Swiftly followed by screaming pain, his entire body twitched and spasmed as he was hit with waves of agony.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>A weak, barely audible moan made its way past his lips.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Shh," a soft voice whispered over him, calming his panicked breathing, "it's ok, it's ok."</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>A soft, heavy hand fell on his head and then slowly made its way down his neck, back, ass and legs, healing most of the damage he'd just endured. Once it was done it returned to his hair and gently stroked through his sweaty locks, brushing them out of his face.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"That's it, just like that dove," the terrible, terrifyingly familiar voice continued, "it's done now."</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Fingers hardened and pulled, forcing Gabriel's head to turn and look at the speaker. A pair of cold blue eyes stared back.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"It's over." Aziraphale said</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <em>
    <span>He was on his knees, slumped over in exhaustion with his head in Aziraphale’s lap. Aziraphale had a book in his hands, stroking Gabriel’s hair absently as if he was an obedient pet.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’m a horrible person,” Aziraphale remarked after an hour or two of silence.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Hmm?” Gabriel roused his mind from the dark silent place it had sunk into and tried to process what he had just said.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He must have hesitated too long, because Aziraphale tightened his grip on Gabriel’s hair in warning.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I- I’m a horrible person,” Gabriel repeated quickly. Aziraphale relaxed and went back to soft petting.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I hurt the people around me with my selfish choices.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I h-hurt the people around me… with my selfish choices.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“This never needed to happen,” Aziraphale said. Gabriel hesitated, unsure if he needed to repeat this part, but Aziraphale continued monologuing.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I never wanted to hurt you,” he said, “or anyone, even though God knows you deserved it. But I would have forgiven you and moved on. All I wanted was to get on with my life down here on Earth. You never would have heard from me again.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He tightened his grip on Gabriel’s hair again, making him wince in pain. “But you just couldn’t let it go, could you? You had to assuage your wounded pride. You had to hold someone else responsible for your own mistakes.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Gabriel tried to choke out an apology, but Aziraphale yanked his hair viciously and continued. “It wouldn’t have even occurred to me to use my abilities for revenge, do you know that? Until you demonstrated to me exactly how much you needed to be </span>
  </em>
  <span>fixed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Gabriel’s head was being held fast, but he tried to nod his agreement. This was his own fault.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Everything was his fault.</span>
  </em>
</p><hr/><p>
  <em>
    <span>Aziraphale’s hands were tight around Gabriel’s throat as he slammed his head into the wall repeatedly.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Would you just… shut up… for five seconds?” he snarled between blows.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Finally Aziraphale released his grip and allowed Gabriel to collapse to the floor, coughing and gasping. Stars exploded behind his eyes. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“S-sorry…” he choked out, then realized his mistake an instant later.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Aziraphale hoisted him up by the neck and threw him into the wall again. By the time he dropped Gabriel back to the floor, his throat was a mess of angry bruises and he could scarcely do more than wheeze the tiniest of strained breaths.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Aziraphale stared down at him with no sympathy.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Maybe now you’ll be quiet for once,” he sneered.</span>
  </em>
</p><hr/><p>
  <em>
    <span>He was late. He’d tried so hard, but he hadn’t been able to make his excuses until there were only ten minutes left on the watch.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The pain hit him in the elevator, nearly sending him to his knees with a groan of pain. He barely managed to stumble into the bookshop, throwing himself to his knees at Aziraphale’s feet and silently begging for mercy.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Aziraphale’s fingers drifted under Gabriel’s chin, tilting his head up gently to make eye contact.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Would you like me to turn it off, dove?” he asked sweetly.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Gabriel nodded through the tears.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Aziraphale tilted his head towards the back room. “Then you know what to do first.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>By the time Gabriel had crawled to the back room, unable to stand, he could barely get his clothes off with his seizing and cramping muscles. He shuddered on his knees, only able to wait until Aziraphale decided to show him mercy.</span>
  </em>
</p><hr/><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I- I’m unworthy,” Gabriel stammered out. “I don’t deserve to be an angel.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Incorrect.” Gabriel was immediately punished by a blast of pain from the watch. “Crowley isn’t an angel, and he is a thousand times more worthy than you. Try again.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’m a failure,” Gabriel tried, unsure of what Aziraphale wanted from him. “I let everyone down.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>There was a breathless pause as Aziraphale mulled it over.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Close enough,” he said.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Gabriel could have cried in relief.</span>
  </em>
</p><hr/><p>
  <em>
    <span>He was bent over the desk, pinned down by Aziraphale’s weight, trying to block out the sensations and sounds and Aziraphale’s poisonous words whispered into his ear. He wished Aziraphale would pull out the Hellfire knife and decide to grant him one final mercy.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>But he knew that would never happen. Aziraphale would never let him go.</span>
  </em>
</p><hr/><p>
  <em>
    <span>He was hanging by the cuffs, toes not quite brushing the floor, long past his limit of endurance but still enduring anyway. There was no other choice.</span>
  </em>
</p><hr/><p>
  <em>
    <span>Aziraphale was everywhere. Aziraphale was always watching.</span>
  </em>
</p><hr/><p>
  <em>
    <span>There was nothing but fear and pain and fear and PAIN PAIN PAIN</span>
  </em>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>When Gabriel regained his senses, he was huddled against the floor, shaking uncontrollably. He cringed, waiting for the next blow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a long moment of nothing, Gabriel dared to crack his eyes open. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wasn’t in the bookshop. There was no sign of Aziraphale. There were no broken bones or Hellfire burns or searing, agonizing pain. Instead, there were three sets of feet in front of him and the sound of someone crying.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hesitantly, he raised his head. Raguel was being held in Raphael’s arms, sobbing into his shoulder. He was rubbing her back and murmuring comforting things into her ear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Michael looked wildly between her and Gabriel, at a complete loss for words.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You- he- what did he do?” she said haltingly. Then, louder, at Gabriel, “what did you </span>
  <em>
    <span>do?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She rounded on Gabriel, prepared to haul him up and beat the answers out of him, but Raguel caught her sleeve to stop her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait.” She paused to sniffle and wipe her eyes for a moment, then composed herself. “It’s not- he’s not responsible for any of this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>what?” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Michael said flatly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s been victimized,” Raguel said. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Brutalized. </span>
  </em>
  <span>It’s the worst torture I’ve ever seen.</span>
  <em>
    <span>”  </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is it really that bad?” Raphael asked, one arm still around her shoulders. “I know there were signs of torture, but-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raguel shook her head. “It’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>worse,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>she said. “His mind… it’s broken. He’s not himself anymore.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How is that possible?” Raphael said. “Did he- did you find out how he survived? Where he’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>been?</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raguel shook her head. “He’s not thinking straight. I was looking for information, but… I got sucked into his worst memories.” Her voice cracked, and Raphael pulled her in closer and squeezed her shoulders comfortingly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Michael’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “What makes you so sure it’s not a trick?” She threw a skeptical glance at Gabriel. “He’s a liar. He’ll do </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything </span>
  </em>
  <span>to gain our sympathy. I wouldn’t put it past him to create false memories-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s not lying,” Raguel interrupted, glaring at Michael with red-rimmed eyes. “You think I can’t tell the difference? I know when a mind has been tampered with.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Michael looked at Gabriel, then back to Raguel. “So- you’re telling me- this whole time- he hasn’t been- he wasn’t- he’s not-” her face paled. “Ohh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>They all looked down at Gabriel, still on his knees in handcuffs, shaking with tears streaming silently down his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who… who did this to him?” Raphael asked quietly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait!” Gabriel jerked upright before Raguel could say anything. The other angels all jumped in surprise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please… please don’t tell. I swore I wouldn’t tell, don’t tell, </span>
  <em>
    <span>please...</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Gabriel clung to his last thread of desperate hope, even though he knew he had no business telling other angels what to do. But if Raguel </span>
  <em>
    <span>told, </span>
  </em>
  <span>then Gabriel might as well have signed the death warrant of everyone in the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raguel pulled away from Raphael and approached Gabriel slowly, sinking to her knees in front of him. Gabriel cringed back reflexively, but she didn’t reach out to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gabriel, I’m so sorry,” she said awkwardly, haltingly. “I… shouldn’t have done that. But you don’t have to worry. There’s no need to be scared of him anymore. We can protect you-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can’t,” Gabriel interrupted, knowing he was out of line but unable to stop himself. “No one can. If you try to stop him, he’ll- he’ll kill you, he’ll kill everyone, you can’t stop him, he’ll hurt you because of me and it’ll all be my fault, it’s all- my fault…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gabriel clamped his hands over his mouth to shut himself up, shoulders shaking with suppressed hysteria. He’d been so good lately, and now here he was running his mouth, talking over the other angels, and bossing them around as though he hadn’t learned a thing since day one of Aziraphale’s lessons. He was going to pay for this in </span>
  <em>
    <span>so</span>
  </em>
  <span> many ways.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gabriel, what are you talking about?” Raguel raised an eyebrow with a reassuring half smile. “I hardly think Aziraphale is capable of taking all of us down so easily.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aziraphale?” Michael said in astonishment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gabriel’s heart stopped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was doomed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Michael came up behind Raguel, asking questions in an increasingly demanding tone, but her voice was distant and muffled. All Gabriel could hear was the cracking noise of his life crumbling around him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All the suffering he had endured, all the pain inflicted on him, he had deserved every minute of it. There was no doubt about that. The only thing that kept him going was the knowledge that his submission to Aziraphale was serving to protect his fellow angels. His </span>
  <em>
    <span>family. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He had isolated himself from them, hidden himself away, made so many sacrifices to make sure his duly deserved punishment rested on </span>
  <em>
    <span>him </span>
  </em>
  <span>and no one else.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had failed his family in so many ways. The only thing left he could do was keep Aziraphale’s wrath directed at him, where it belonged, and away from any innocents. He’d caused enough pain already.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(How many of the other angels had he casually abused? He often wondered in his quiet moments. How many of them were holding simmering grudges behind polite smiles? How many of his own people would take out their rage on him like Aziraphale was doing, given the chance?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Apparently all of them, if the last few days was anything to go by. It seemed like half the Host had wasted no time lining up to give him a piece of their collective mind.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hands were on his shoulders. He realized Raguel had been repeating his name for several minutes. He flinched, anticipating the punishment for his lapse in attention.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gabriel,” Raguel said gently. “It’s alright. We can keep you safe, okay? We’ll put you under our protection, and we can figure out all the rest later.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gabriel was shaking his head. “You can’t,” he protested. “You- you shouldn’t. I don’t deserve it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why not?” Raguel pressured.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because I’m a selfish, prideful, ignorant excuse for an angel.” The memorized words were the only ones that fell easily from his lips anymore. “I hurt the others around me with my shortsighted actions, I don’t consider the consequences of my decisions, and I don’t care about others’ feelings. I never belonged in a position of authority, and I abused my privilege for my own gain. Innocent people suffered because of me-” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Crowley suffered because of me. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t go on, though he wasn’t even halfway through his list of flaws. He hadn’t even started digging into the specific sins yet. The other archangels deserved to know what they were getting into by removing Aziraphale’s influence before his lessons were finished. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He </span>
  <em>
    <span>needed </span>
  </em>
  <span>Aziraphale to correct him and keep him on the right track. He was lost without Aziraphale.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow,” Michael muttered. “Never thought I’d see the day he actually felt remorse.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This isn’t remorse, it’s trauma,” Raphael said bitterly. “I can’t believe I didn’t see it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Either way, Aziraphale has a lot of questions to answer,” Michael said darkly. Gabriel’s head snapped up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No!” he cried out. “Please, please don’t, please, I’m begging you, please don’t, </span>
  <em>
    <span>please….”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>His breath was coming in quick, shallow pants that he couldn’t control, yet there seemed to be no air in his lungs. The room was spinning, Raguel’s steady hands on his shoulders the only sign that he was still attached to his corporation. He could vaguely hear his own voice, making high-pitched whimpers now instead of coherent words.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a person standing over him. It was too much, everything was too much. Was he begging for Hellfire? He couldn’t even tell anymore. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a hand on his forehead, flooding him with a warm numbness that smothered his panic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As everything went black, he found himself hoping he would never wake up.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks to my buddy @ThisIsGreat for beta'ing and providing part of the flashback :)</p><p>And as always, huge props to DoS and Dacelin for providing the original fics!</p><p>Shout out to the Discord server!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Reaction</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The news is broken. No one takes it well.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello all! I took a few days off for Christmas and New Year's, but we're back with a vengeance!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Oi, angel!” Crowley called, winding his way through the purposefully confusing labyrinth of bookshelves that made up Hell’s archives. “Angel! Where the Heaven are you?”</p><p>“Back here, dear!” Aziraphale’s voice came from somewhere in a far corner.</p><p>Crowley sighed and debated taking the direct route, but Aziraphale frowned on people climbing the bookshelves. After someone who shall not be identified had tried to nap on top of a shelf and set off a domino effect across half the library, Aziraphale had placed spikes atop all the shelves. Very annoying, even though Crowley could appreciate the aesthetic.</p><p>In fact, Aziraphale had practically gone native when it came to the decor in the library. The wall sconces gave off a soft glow, casting the stacks into deep shadow. The whole effect was ominous almost to the point of being cliché. </p><p>“Knew you were around here somewhere,” Crowley said as he rounded a stack and found Aziraphale in an armchair, buried in a book. “Thought the stacks might have eaten you.”</p><p>“Good morning, dearest,” Aziraphale said distractedly, glancing up at a wall clock. “Good evening, dearest. How are things at the clinic?”</p><p>Crowley took the liberty of sprawling across Aziraphale’s lap, kicking his legs over the arm of the chair. “Crazy as always. Running a mental health practice for a bunch of demons isn’t the easiest thing in the world. Turns out, most of us are pretty fucked up. Who knew, right?”</p><p>“Indeed,” Aziraphale said, obviously not listening at all.</p><p>Crowley hooked one finger over the top of the book, pulling it downwards until Aziraphale was forced to make eye contact. </p><p>“It’s been a long day, angel, and I could use some stress relief,” he purred.</p><p>Finally Aziraphale set his book aside to focus  his attention on Crowley. “Well then, dear,” he said as he wrapped his arms around Crowley’s waist to pull him close. “I think we can come up with some ideas to help you unwind.”</p><p>With nimble fingers, Crowley undid Aziraphale’s bow tie and unbuttoned his collar, kissing in a line down his neck and scraping at the skin with his teeth. Aziraphale’s hands slipped under his shirt to caress him, his fingers soft and so very, very gentle. </p><p>It had taken them a long time to get here, and Crowley was still hesitant about physical affection sometimes. In the early days, there had been a lot of spiraling arguments of <em> do you actually want this or are you just trying to please me at your own expense-  - don’t second guess me, I wouldn’t have suggested it if I didn’t want it- -I’m not saying you didn’t want it, I’m saying you might be trying to give me what you think I want, don’t force yourself to do something you’re not ready for- -don’t tell me how ready I am, I’m not as fragile as you seem to think- </em>but on the whole, Aziraphale and Crowley were on the same page when it came to the other’s needs. Crowley reveled in gentle touches and whispered words that he was loved, adored, cherished, and Aziraphale was more than happy to lavish his darling demon with all the affection he could ever ask for.</p><p>Even more reassuring than the soft words were the ironclad ground rules that bounded their time together. These were the rules that Aziraphale would never break under any circumstances, such as not touching Crowley in certain ways and stopping immediately upon Crowley’s request. They had worked out the rules together, slowly, through a lot of trial and error and fights and apologies and tears and hugs and love. </p><p>There was nothing more comforting to Crowley than knowing what would and, more importantly, would <em> not </em> happen. When he had been trapped under Gabriel’s thumb, hopeless and desperate, there had been nothing worse than not knowing what was about to happen. Worse than the beatings, the rapes, and the humiliation, worse than the most intense pain Gabriel had ever inflicted on him, was the uncertainty. Waiting in the dark, in pain and afraid, knowing that the hammer would drop but not knowing when or how or why… nothing tore away at his fragile sanity like the <em> what-ifs </em>that tormented his tragically vivid imagination. </p><p>It was almost a relief whenever Gabriel finally arrived to turn his fears into reality.</p><p>What was shaping up to be a very heated makeout session was interrupted by a muffled rendition of Nicki Minaj’s <em> Anaconda. </em>Under Aziraphale’s withering scowl, Crowley sheepishly peeled himself away from the angel enough to fish for his phone, which was pinned between them in his front pocket.</p><p>Crowley didn’t bother to check the caller ID. There was only one person who could be calling him. Very few people had his number, and his contact names were all emojis anyway. </p><p>“Hey Raph,” he croaked, then cleared his throat and tried to bring his brain back online. “Listen, can it wait? I’m in the middle of-”</p><p>Aziraphale couldn’t make out what was said on the other end, but he could tell Raphael’s tone was grave. Crowley listened for a few moments, then his face turned deathly pale.</p><p>“What is it? What’s wrong?” Aziraphale said as Crowley mumbled a response and hung up.</p><p>The demon just shook his head and buried his face in Aziraphale’s neck.</p><p>“Crowley? What’s going on? You’re scaring me.” Aziraphale tightened his hold on the demon protectively, prepared to defend Crowley from some unknown threat. </p><p>“Raph’s coming down,” Crowley mumbled, sounding hesitant and extremely fragile. “He’ll explain. Just… hold me?”</p><p>Aziraphale would never deny him such a request, no matter the circumstances. Crowley pulled his legs up onto the chair so Aziraphale could wrap his arms around his entire body, holding him so close it felt like they were one being. The heavy weight of uncertainty smothered them both. Together, they waited in silence for the hammer to drop. </p><p>Any trace of romance had evaporated. This embrace was the desperate grasp of two damaged beings who were only halves of a whole, clinging to each other because it was the only way to survive the storm that was about to hit.</p><hr/><p>“So,” Aziraphale said. “I must have heard you wrong the first time, because it sounded like you said Gabriel is <em> alive.” </em></p><p>They were still in the library, which had been locked and the sign switched to “Closed.” Raphael was seated in an armchair opposite Aziraphale and Crowley, appearing as calm as ever but with a subtle tension in his features. His hands were folded in his lap, but he was picking at one of his thumbs with the other. Crowley had <em> never </em>known Raphael to fidget.</p><p>“He is alive,” Raphael confirmed with a slight nod. “He appeared in his office out of nowhere a week ago and Michael took him into custody immediately. He’s in prison now while we decide what to do with him.”</p><p>“What- just- what-” Aziraphale made a frustrated noise. “<em> How?” </em></p><p>The one thing they knew for sure, that everyone knew for absolute certain, was that Gabriel was <em> dead. </em>He had been erased completely from existence before their eyes. There was no trick, no lie, no last-minute con game that could have saved him from the Almighty’s judgment. She had made Her decision. Her Word was law. No angel could hope to overcome Her power.</p><p>Except, somehow, Gabriel had apparently managed to do so.</p><p>Raphael shook his head. “I don’t have any answers for you,” he said. “There are no precedents for this situation. It’s possible he outwitted us all and figured out a way to survive his own execution. Or the Almighty decided to give him a second chance and brought him back personally.”</p><p>“Why would She allow the execution if She was just going to bring him back?” Aziraphale protested.</p><p>“I don’t know,” Raphael said, frustrated. “So far, She’s had nothing to say on the matter. Unless She says otherwise, we’ll be operating under the assumption that She’s allowing him to survive.”</p><p>“She shouldn’t,” Aziraphale said darkly. “He shouldn’t have the chance to hurt anyone ever again.”</p><p>“He won’t be hurting anyone,” Raphael said. “I haven’t told you about his condition. He’s been tortured. Horribly. He’s mentally damaged to the point where he can barely speak. He can’t even tell us what happened to him.”</p><p>Crowley’s golden eyes appeared from where he had been hiding against Aziraphale as he looked up in shock. </p><p>“Excuse me?” Aziraphale said. “Who would- how would- <em> what?” </em></p><p>“Extreme physical and mental trauma,” Raphael elaborated. “He’s essentially broken. He may never recover.”</p><p><em> “Good,” </em> Aziraphale said vehemently. “That bastard deserves it. He should suffer for eternity after what he <em> did.” </em></p><p>“He’s supposed to be dead,” Crowley murmured plaintively, almost too quietly to hear. “How did he survive? Why is he <em> alive?” </em></p><p>Raphael gave him a measured, searching look. “Like I said, I don’t have the answers,” he said. “But I expect Aziraphale does.”</p><p>“Excuse me?” Aziraphale said indignantly. “What exactly is that supposed to mean?”</p><p>Raphael hesitated. “The information we managed to get from Gabriel… indicates... that Aziraphale may be responsible for his condition,” he said carefully.</p><p>Crowley’s head snapped up and he fixed his slit-pupiled eyes on Raphael. His expression was full of fear, anger, and a mix of other unknowable emotions. Raphael’s gaze didn’t move from Aziraphale. He remained as calm as ever despite Crowley’s angry snake glare.</p><p>“What exactly are you accusing me of?” Aziraphale said stiffly.</p><p>“Nothing at all,” Raphael assured him. “We don’t have all the information yet-”</p><p>“And yet you’re telling me he’s trying to make <em> me </em>out as the villain here?” Aziraphale said defensively. “That’s just typical of Gabriel, isn’t it? Pinning the blame on others?”</p><p>“Believe me, Aziraphale, we wouldn’t consider you as a suspect without <em> very </em>good reason,” Raphael said. “Our information is as accurate as possible-”</p><p>“He’s <em> lying,” </em> Crowley snarled, making both angels jump. “He’s a liar. It’ss what he <em> doess.” </em></p><p>“I know that,” Raphael said. “But this isn’t just Gabriel’s word for it. Raguel read his mind-”</p><p>“Then she’s <em> wrong,” </em> Crowley hissed. “Aziraphale didn’t. He <em> wouldn’t. </em> How could you even <em> think- </em> I thought you were my <em> friend-”  </em></p><p>“Crowley,” Raphael said softly. He knew better than to say <em> calm down, </em>but his tone still stopped Crowley in his tracks before he could work himself into a hissing frenzy. This was the tone of voice that could head off Crowley’s panic attacks and pull him out of a mental spiral of insecurity and paranoia before he drove himself crazy.</p><p>“We don’t have all the answers,” Raphael said, soothing but unrelenting. “There are any number of possible explanations for this. It could have been an impostor or a facsimile. According to Raguel, Gabriel’s memories were too disjointed and chaotic to really understand what happened to him. But…”</p><p>“But? But <em> what?” </em>Aziraphale snapped.</p><p>“The prevailing theory seems to be that Gabriel was reconstituted after the trial and has been hidden away somewhere ever since. We don’t know for certain that Aziraphale is the one who tortured Gabriel. But the alternative explanations are… convoluted, to say the least,” Raphael said apologetically. </p><p>“You can’t possibly think- Crowley? What’s the matter?” Aziraphale said in sudden alarm as Crowley writhed out of the embrace.</p><p>“I- I can’t- I have to-” with a choked hiss, Crowley lunged out of Aziraphale’s grasp. Before either angel could stop him, a black tail was vanishing into the shadows between the stacks.</p><hr/><p><em> “He died too quickly,” Aziraphale grumbled under his breath. “He deserved to </em>suffer.”</p><p>
  <em> Curled up in a ball under a blanket on the plush sofa, Crowley squeezed his eyes shut and tried to block out the way Aziraphale paced back and forth and muttered to himself. </em>
</p><p><em> “He should have gone through everything he did to you and </em> worse,” <em> Aziraphale growled. “Death was too good for him. If it was up to me, I wouldn’t have let him die until he was </em> begging <em> me to kill him… and then I would have made it slow and painful until he-” </em></p><p>
  <em> He stopped short when he noticed Crowley shivering under his blanket.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Oh, dearest, I’m scaring you, aren’t I?” he said softly. “I’m so sorry.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> He reached out to touch Crowley, then thought better of it and settled at the opposite end of the couch.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I shouldn’t have gotten carried away like that, love,” he murmured. “I’m only making things worse, aren’t I? I don’t want you to be afraid of me.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Neither of them said it, but the shared memory of Aziraphale impassively watching a nameless demon scream as he died hung between them like a lead weight.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “‘m not,” Crowley mumbled. “I trust you.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Still.” Aziraphale carefully reached out to lay a hand on Crowley’s ankle. “Perhaps I should find a better outlet for my frustrations. There’s no need to worry you unduly.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> The lump of blankets shifted until Crowley was snuggled in Aziraphale’s lap, still wrapped up like a snake burrito. “Dart board with his face on it?” he suggested. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Aziraphale chuckled. “I’ll think of something.” </em>
</p><hr/><p>“This is absolutely ridiculous!” Aziraphale fumed. “I need to be out there looking for Crowley, not wasting time with your pointless questions!”</p><p>“Well, if you would <em> answer </em>a few of these pointless questions, we might have been done already,” Raguel said crisply.</p><p>After Crowley had run off, Raphael had stopped Aziraphale from chasing after him and informed him that his presence had been requested in Heaven. <em> Requested, </em>not demanded. He was assured that he wasn’t being taken into custody or charged with anything. Still, Aziraphale was well aware that he wasn’t truly being given any choice in the matter.</p><p>Raguel had obviously made every effort to make this situation feel more like a friendly chat than an interrogation. Instead of a cell or an office, she and Aziraphale sat on comfortable sofas in a room overlooking a picturesque garden. Two untouched mugs of coffee sat on the table between them.</p><p>“I’ve already told you everything,” Aziraphale said stiffly. “Which is that there’s nothing to tell. I haven’t done any of the things you’re accusing me of.”</p><p>Raguel crossed her legs, shifting in her chair. “I’m not saying I <em> don’t </em>believe you,” she said carefully. “But you have to admit, it doesn’t look good right now. All the evidence is pointing straight to you. Is it really such an unreasonable conclusion to reach?”</p><p><em> “Yes, </em> because I didn’t <em> do it,” </em>Aziraphale said through gritted teeth. </p><p>“You have a personal investment in seeing Gabriel suffer, possibly more than anyone else,” Raguel pointed out. “You objected to his execution, quoted as saying it was “too merciful.” You spend a great deal of time by yourself in the archives. It wouldn’t be hard to keep such a secret, even from Crowley.”</p><p>“I don’t <em> keep </em>secrets from Crowley-”</p><p>“Gabriel’s own memories are the strongest evidence against you,” Raguel continued as though he hadn’t spoken. "Not only does he clearly implicate you as his abuser, he’s suffered a similar variety of mental conditioning as he put Crowley through. Mightn’t you consider that a form of… poetic justice?”</p><p>“I don’t have to sit here and humor these accusations!” Aziraphale shouted. “Crowley is missing, and I need to find him!”</p><p>He made to get to his feet, but Raguel shot him the Glare of Authority™ and he grumpily sat back down. </p><p>“Aziraphale, please,” Raguel sighed. “I don’t want to be here either, but my duty is to uphold and protect the rule of law. I trust you and care for you as a friend, but I can’t be playing favorites. It wouldn’t be right for me to just let you go without finding the truth. You <em> know </em>this.”</p><p>Aziraphale noticed the shadows under Raguel’s eyes, the crease in her forehead, the obvious toll this was taking on her. He suddenly felt guilty for taking out his anger on her, when she really was just doing her job. She needed to be impartial at all times, otherwise the entire Heavenly justice system would crumble. Aziraphale had never quite realized how heavy a responsibility that was.</p><p>“You’re right,” he said. “I’m sorry. I’m just worried about Crowley.”</p><p>“Raphael will find him, if he wants to be found,” Raguel reassured him. “If not, he’ll turn up when he’s ready.”</p><p>It wasn’t unlike Crowley to go missing every so often. When he was overwhelmed emotionally or overloaded with sensory stimulus, his snake brain would kick in and the instinct to flee from danger would take over. He had a number of hiding places where he could semi-reliably be located, but on the whole, it was better to wait for him to return on his own.</p><p>Under normal circumstances, there was no need to worry overmuch. Crowley had friends in both Heaven and Hell, and he was crafty enough to get himself out of any potentially troublesome situations. And as much as Crowley detested praying, Raphael would be able to hear him if he did and appear at his side instantly.</p><p>Crowley didn’t often call for help like that, but it was an immense comfort to know that he <em> could. </em></p><p>But then, these were hardly normal circumstances.<br/></p><p>“I can’t just sit here and wait for him to show up!” Aziraphale said angrily. “If Gabriel’s here, then he could be going after Crowley, he could already be-”</p><p>“Crowley is in no danger,” Raguel cut across him firmly. “Gabriel is in no condition to cause any harm, and he’s under constant watch. There’s nothing he can do to hurt anyone right now. Trust me, he’s not going anywhere.”</p><hr/><p>Meanwhile:</p><p>“What do you mean, he’s <em> gone?” </em>Michael screeched.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Zero guesses as to where he's gone.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Remembering</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sad flashbacks from our two trauma boys, and a somewhat intense conversation from our girls who are Trying Their Best Okay</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello everyone! Sorry this chapter was delayed. I was hoping to get it out before I left on my trip, but I found time to finish it while I was staying with my friend. Enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Several Years Previously</strong>
</p><p>
  <span>Crowley and Raphael sat across from each other in a side room in Heaven’s hospital, filling bottles and rolling bandages in companionable silence. All things that could have been done in an instant with a miracle, but Raphael preferred to do by hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Crowley understood the feeling. Some things were just done better without shortcuts. And it was nice to enjoy the peace and quiet, which had been such a rare thing for so long.<br/></span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How’s Aziraphale doing?” Raphael asked after a short while.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Crowley broke out into a grin. “Oh, he’s doing great,” he said. “He’s turned the archives into his own personal library. He’s got at least half a dozen demons at his beck and call. They’re not even pretending it’s a punishment anymore.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raphael chuckled. “I’ll have to check it out next time we’re down there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he wasn’t with Aziraphale, Crowley still spent most of his time under Raphael’s wing, but he had grand ambitions of opening a wellness clinic in Hell. Raphael fully supported him, and the pair had made multiple visits Downstairs to raise interest in the project. So far, the demons were skeptical.<br/></span>
</p><p>
  <span>There were no doctors in Hell. </span>
  <span>Down there, the general reaction to illness or injury was “deal with it or die.” If a demon couldn’t heal itself, then too damned bad. Literally.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Healing was considered an angelic power, and was viewed as sissy at best and treasonous at worst. Healing oneself could be excused as it fell under the umbrella of selfishness, which was proper demonic behavior, but a demon healing another was a punishable offense. No one wanted to be caught acting too </span>
  <em>
    <span>angelic.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course, things were different now. The rift between Heaven and Hell had begun to shrink. Angels and demons were beginning to realize that they weren’t so different from their “enemies” after all. Long-standing beliefs were being challenged; defenses were slowly dropping. It was not in the nature of immortal beings to change easily, but changing they were.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As with all change, this brought with it fear and uncertainty. But where some saw danger, Crowley saw opportunity.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, he could shift his focus away from minute-to-minute survival and plan for the future. Crowley had missed having plans. At heart, he was a schemer. Setting these wheels in motion and watching them spin had helped him finally begin feeling like <em>himself </em>again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Raphael?” One of the healers poked her head through the door. “Can I borrow you for a minute?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Certainly,” Raphael said, putting down his work and standing up. “Crowley, I’ll be right back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Crowley made an acknowledging noise as Raphael left the room with the other healer, and then he was alone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Crowley didn’t mind being alone. He was fine being alone. The hospital was a calm place, filled with big windows and decorative plants, so different from the cold and sterile environments that humans seemed to think hospitals should look like. Being alone in a room like this was so very different to being alone in his cell, it almost didn’t remind him of it at all. He was </span>
  <em>
    <span>totally fine </span>
  </em>
  <span>with being alone.</span>
</p><p><span>“Hello, Crowley,”</span> <span>Gabriel said.</span></p><p>
  <span>Crowley ignored the chill that ran down his spine, squashed down the urge to hide under the table, and determinedly kept at his work.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look at you, acting like you’re a real person,” Gabriel taunted. “How much longer do you think they’re all going to humor you? Who do you think you are, trying to shake up the natural order? Do you really think anyone even wants to <em>listen</em> to these delusional ideas?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Crowley didn’t answer. He knew better by now than to talk back to the voices in his head. All he had to do was use his rational mind to overpower his fears.<br/></span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Gabriel is gone, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he said to himself. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You are loved. Gabriel is gone, you are loved, Gabriel is gone. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Repetition and consistency were his friends. The same techniques that had once been used to enforce his training were now enforcing his new mindset, giving him a framework of mental stability on which he could build his new life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No matter how hard he tried, though, his fears never seemed to be more than a few steps behind him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This isn’t going to last,” Gabriel sneered. Crowley felt a whisper of breath on his neck. “You know where you belong, sweetheart. And you’ll be back there soon enough.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Gabriel is gone. Gabriel is gone.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t really believe that, do you? You keep telling yourself that, but you know better. I’ll <em>never</em> be gone. It doesn’t matter how long you wait, because someday, I’ll be back. The moment you let down your guard, I’ll be there to take back what’s <em>mine.”</em></span>
</p><p>
  <span>Crowley crushed his hands over his ears so hard it hurt, but it didn’t stop the voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll be back.” Gabriel’s voice was burrowing deep into his brain. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“I’ll be back.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m back,” Raphael said as he entered the room. “Everything alright?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Crowley, who had quickly dropped his hands and pretended to be working, did not look up to meet his eyes. If Raphael saw his face, then he would be able to tell that Crowley was rattled, and that would lead to questions, and Crowley was not willing to admit that he couldn’t sit alone in a room for ten minutes without experiencing some sort of mental breakdown or auditory hallucination.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m fine,” Crowley said. “Totally fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If Raphael noticed the lie in his voice, he didn’t comment.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <strong>Several Weeks Previously</strong>
</p><p>
  <span>Gabriel waited miserably on his knees in the back room, listening to Crowley and Aziraphale shouting at each other upstairs. He held as still as he could, ignoring the pain of the burning cuffs that locked his hands behind his back and the way the carpet beneath his knees was slowly becoming soaked with blood.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the next room, the front door slammed so hard the windows rattled. A moment later, the door to the back room opened with a soft </span>
  <em>
    <span>click. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Somehow, the second noise scared Gabriel more than the first one did.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale didn’t acknowledge Gabriel as he walked in. He simply crossed the room and settled into his armchair without saying a word. Gabriel stared at the floor, holding his breath, doing his best not to make any tiny movements that might make Aziraphale angry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not that he could ever truly avoid making Aziraphale angry. Try as he might, Gabriel could never stop making mistakes and failing expectations. Gabriel the Perpetual Fuckup, that was him. Aziraphale was doing him a favor by being so strict. Clearly, it was the only way he could learn.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a few long minutes of tense silence, Aziraphale tapped one finger against his knee. In response to the silent command, Gabriel shuffled across the floor to settle at Aziraphale’s feet. He winced internally at the trail of blood he left behind him on the carpet. Hopefully Aziraphale would allow him to clean it up later without any further punishment for the mess.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Without his hands free, all Gabriel could do was press his forehead against Aziraphale’s knee. Aziraphale’s hand landed on his head, heavy and threatening rather than reassuring.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Something to say, dove?” Aziraphale said coldly, gripping Gabriel’s hair and tugging his head back to look him in the eye.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unable to raise a finger to his lips, Gabriel did his best to nod despite Aziraphale’s hold on his hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you think it’s something I actually want to </span>
  <em>
    <span>hear?” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Aziraphale’s voice was low and dangerous. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gabriel could only shrug.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re on thin ice right now, dove, I’m not in the best of moods.” Aziraphale’s hand slid lower, stroking down his neck to his bare back. “But if you’re willing to risk it, you have my permission.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gabriel swallowed and cleared his throat, not quite sure he could even make words come out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” he whispered hoarsely. “I don’t want to make you and Crowley fight over me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And he truly was sorry. Not only did Aziraphale usually take out his anger onto Gabriel after one of his and Crowley’s fights, Gabriel hated being a source of contention in their house. Crowley and Aziraphale had been happy before all of this, Gabriel knew. They had loved each other. These days, all the couple did was fight, and Gabriel knew it was all because of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale scoffed. “Well, at least you understand that it’s your fault.” His hand rose from its dangerous position between Gabriel’s shoulder blades and back to his hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gabriel nuzzled against Aziraphale’s leg, soaking up the affection like a very sad and pathetic sponge. He craved Aziraphale’s approval, needed it more than his weakened corporation needed air. Nothing mattered to him anymore except pleasing Aziraphale. He would endure any pain, any humiliation, any torment, as long as it meant Aziraphale was happy with him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was all that mattered to him anymore.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <strong>Several Minutes Previously</strong>
</p><p>
  <span>Heaven was in an uproar.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Michael’s attempts to prevent the news of Gabriel’s escape from spreading had lasted all of eleven seconds, escalating into dozens of screaming angels running every which way and causing a mass panic that Michael’s enforcers were powerless to contain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Everyone calm down!” she shouted at the crowd, but was drowned out by the hysteria. Even her compelling force of authority had no effect on the riot. She grabbed a passing angel by the arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Everything is going to be fine,” Michael said firmly. “No one is in danger.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re all gonna die!” the angel screeched in her face, then tore itself free from her grasp and ran off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Michael retreated to her office, ready to scream in frustration. Faith in authority figures was at an all-time low in Heaven. Even in the confusing days after the War, the lower angels had trusted their leaders to know best. Back then, the archangels themselves had been certain that they did, in fact, know best. Michael wasn’t so sure anymore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Life used to be so simple. She knew her purpose, and she performed it to the best of her abilities. They all did. There were no philosophers among the Host. Angels didn’t question their purpose or try to unravel the mysteries of the universe. The ones who had… they were gone now. The remaining angels, if they had ever been inclined to question the world around them, no longer dared to do so. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was only now that Michael realized how tenuous the millennia of peace had been. Angels kept their heads down, terrified that any expression of individuality would mark them as </span>
  <em>
    <span>other. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Underneath the peace and tranquility was fear, suspicion, and paranoia, all of which had finally been brought out into the open. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Heaven hadn’t changed. It had always been this way, and Michael had been too blind to realize it. And now the situation had spiralled out of control and she didn’t know what to do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Michael wasn’t meant to do this. She was a born leader, but she was a warrior, not an administrator. Her leadership skills extended as far as “go over there and stab the enemy.” She wasn’t a people person, not the way Gabriel had been. She didn’t have his way with words, his natural charisma, his ability to calm her fears or sway a crowd with a few simple words.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sometimes, she hated herself for missing him.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <strong>Currently<br/></strong>
</p><p>
  <span>Raguel knocked briefly on Michael’s office door, then opened it to find Michael slamming her head against her desk repeatedly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I take it things aren’t going well?” Raguel said dryly, slipping into the chair opposite the desk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re not listening to me,” Michael groaned, resting her head on the desk. Her hair had come undone and spilled in a wavy mess around her head. “They’ve </span>
  <em>
    <span>never </span>
  </em>
  <span>not listened to me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell me about it.” Raguel sighed. “Aziraphale took off the instant he heard Gabriel was gone. He’s probably tearing Earth apart looking for Crowley as we speak.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Should we be worried?” Michael asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raguel shrugged. “Honestly, he’s the least of my worries right now. Our first priority needs to be controlling the crowd before someone gets hurt.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shouldn’t our first priority be apprehending the </span>
  <em>
    <span>escaped bloody criminal </span>
  </em>
  <span>on the loose?” Michael lifted her head and snapped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” Raguel sounded absolutely certain. “Gabriel won’t hurt anyone. He’s not a danger to anyone except himself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re still defending him?” Michael snorted incredulously. “First you said he wouldn’t go anywhere, and now he’s gone. You say he won’t hurt anyone, and you expect me to believe it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He won’t,” Raguel said stubbornly. “You don’t know. You didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>see. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Gabriel is broken. He’s been tortured nearly to insanity, apparently by Aziraphale of all angels.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you think he really did it?” Michael asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raguel shook her head. “I don’t know. He showed no signs of lying when I talked to him, but it’s hard to imagine any other possibility. He has the motive, the opportunity, and the temperament to commit something like this behind Crowley’s back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re sure Crowley wasn’t in on it?” Michael said dubiously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m certain of it,” Raguel said. “Crowley didn’t want revenge. He wanted justice, and to put the whole thing behind him. He wouldn’t want to keep bringing that pain to the surface by letting someone else get hurt, even Gabriel.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s a better person than me, then,” Michael muttered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s better than most angels I know,” Raguel agreed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We really had the wrong of it this whole time, didn’t we?” Michael said glumly. “We were so sure we were in the right about everything, but in the end, we were just… blind.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raguel gave her a tight smile. “It hurts to be wrong, doesn’t it?” she said. “Still, something good came out of all of this. We learned from our mistakes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean, </span>
  <em>
    <span>our </span>
  </em>
  <span>mistakes?” Michael scoffed. “I don’t think you’ve ever made a mistake in your life. You’re the literal embodiment of justice. By definition, I don’t think you </span>
  <em>
    <span>can </span>
  </em>
  <span>make mistakes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m just as fallible as everyone else,” Raguel reminded her. “Thinking you’re always right is a dangerous trap to fall into. If Gabriel had ever been willing to admit he was wrong…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Silence fell as they both considered all the things that might have gone differently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you going to say to the angels?” Raguel finally said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want to tell them it’s all going to be okay, but platitudes are useless at this point,” Michael said. “And I </span>
  <em>
    <span>don’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>want to lie to them. They barely trust me as it is. If I get caught in a lie, I’ll lose any authority I have left.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raguel made an agreeing noise. “Life was easier when the rest of the Host just trusted us to do the right thing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Michael bit her lip. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Am </span>
  </em>
  <span>I doing the right thing?” she asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raguel’s face remained carefully neutral. “What makes you ask that?” she said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because… it seems like every decision I make is wrong,” Michael admitted. “I spent eons preparing for a war that’s never going to happen. I trusted Gabriel, even after he started acting strange. I knew something was wrong, but I let it go. And I came up with the </span>
  <em>
    <span>brilliant </span>
  </em>
  <span>plan to enslave a demon in the first place.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It wasn’t your fault,” Raguel reassured her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wasn’t it?” Michael snapped. “Project Trojan was my idea. I basically handed Crowley over to Gabriel with a ribbon on him. I gave him the green light to treat Crowley so horribly. I even </span>
  <em>
    <span>encouraged </span>
  </em>
  <span>it. I saw Crowley in pain, and I thought it was a </span>
  <em>
    <span>good </span>
  </em>
  <span>thing. All Gabriel did was take it a little bit further than I thought he would. He wouldn’t have done any of it without me. None of it would have even </span>
  <em>
    <span>occurred </span>
  </em>
  <span>to him if it wasn’t for me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s responsible for his own actions,” Raguel reminded her. “And so are you. Your part in Project Trojan was measured accordingly, and the appropriate consequences were dealt. The Almighty has forgiven you, and I’m sure Crowley has too by now.” She looked at Michael knowingly. “You’re the only one who seems to think you still deserve punishment.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I handed him the knife and told him to go nuts,” Michael said bitterly. “What makes you think I won’t do something so colossallly stupid again?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because we learned from our mistakes,” Raguel reminded her. “Raphael and I were too far removed from Heaven’s operations. The Host wasn’t kept informed of things. There were too many secrets and lies. But things are different now. They’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>changing. </span>
  </em>
  <span>They’re getting better.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I certainly hope so,” Michael murmured.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Things will be fine,” Raguel promised. “You settle the crowd. I’ll go find Gabriel.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You make it sound so easy,” Michael said. “He could be anywhere.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, it will be,” Raguel said, a trifle smug. “In fact, I think I already know where he is.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>We're almost done with the setup! As soon as our boys finally cross paths, the true plot will finally begin.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Rendezvous</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Finally, two paths intersect.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This chapter fought me every step of the way but I'm finally satisfied with it! Hope you enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Gabriel didn’t know what was happening. As soon as he had arrived in Heaven- exactly <em> how </em> that had happened, he wasn’t ready to think about just yet- things had been <em> strange. </em></p><p>He had always known Michael would turn against him. It was only a matter of time before she realized he wasn’t worth such kind treatment. She was bound to drop the caring pretense sooner or later, but he wasn’t expecting it to happen quite so <em> abruptly. </em>Maybe he had been absent for too long, ignored too many of his duties, forced her to take on too much of his work… </p><p>She’d been frustrated with him lately, he knew. She only wanted to help, through some misplaced sense of familial loyalty, and he had done nothing but push her away. She should have been focusing on undoing the damage he had done to Heaven, not coddling him while he was enduring his rightfully deserved punishment. </p><p>Well, at least now all was right with the world again. Which meant everything was horrible.</p><p>Gabriel was sure of one thing: he couldn’t wait for Aziraphale in heaven any longer. Now that Raguel had placed him under her protection, he had been moved from the prison to the hospital, though still under guard. The embossed pin with Raguel’s sigil that identified him as Officially Her Problem sat on his bedside table. In his imagination, it was a single eye that stared at him accusingly.</p><p>That pin was the reason Gabriel had to escape Heaven as quickly as possible. If Aziraphale came to find him here, the pin would seal her fate. Aziraphale would never tolerate another angel claiming Gabriel in any way. Anyone who tried to protect Gabriel from Aziraphale would be destroyed, but there was a chance Gabriel could save them by throwing himself on Aziraphale’s mercy. At the very least, he would be able to divert some of Aziraphale’s attention and undoubtedly murderous rage onto himself. </p><p>However, there was no chance Aziraphale would spare Raguel once he spotted the pin. He would kill her, slowly and painfully, while making an example to Gabriel of the consequences of hiding behind an innocent in a cowardly attempt to protect himself.</p><p>He couldn’t stay. He had to run. And time was running out.</p><p>Gabriel wasn’t the angel he used to be. Long ago, he could command thunderstorms, move mountains, bend reality to his will. Not anymore. His time in captivity had drained him to the point where he wasn't even sure he could call himself a proper angel anymore.</p><p>Tired and weakened, Gabriel still managed to gather his meager powers to cast an illusion that would prevent him from being noticed while he snuck out of Heaven. His guards, two of Michael’s enforcers whose names he had never been bothered to learn, had somewhat relaxed their vigilance after several hours spent watching their prisoner lie silent and melancholy in his bed. With any luck, they wouldn’t look closely enough to realize that the lump under the covers was nothing but pillows until it was too late to raise the alarm.</p><p>Gabriel’s stomach twisted in mingled relief and dread as he traced the well-worn path to the elevator. Any angels he passed in the hallway didn’t give him a second glance. </p><p>The sight of the elevator doors, so innocuous and ordinary, nearly broke Gabriel’s will. This was the conveyance that brought him down to a fate worse than Hell, and he had always had to enter it voluntarily.</p><p>That wasn’t unusual. Heaven’s punishments were always “voluntary.” Angels were meant to strive for perfection in all things, and if one were to inadvertently stray, it was expected that they would accept any corrective measures with humility and gratitude for the second chance. </p><p>That was the party line he’d always condescendingly repeated to Aziraphale, in any case. Usually accompanied by a beaming smile and a hearty slap on the back as he waited expectantly for Aziraphale to sign his latest reprimand and report for his duly deserved punishment.</p><p>Gabriel had actually been convinced he was being merciful. How utterly foolish he had been.</p><hr/><p>The elevator deposited him on Earth as usual. From there, his feet took him down the street on autopilot. There was only one destination that mattered anymore.</p><p>He kept on his grey prison uniform- a symbol that any who wore it were lacking in purity- to avoid drawing attention as he made his way to the bookshop. It was there that he found the second piece of strangeness.</p><p>The bookshop was closed and locked up tight. This in itself was not unusual. Even Gabriel knew Aziraphale hated customers, especially once he’d acquired a new archangel toy to pass the time. What was strange was the complete lack of any signs of life.</p><p>The windows, which had always been darkened and hard to see through, were caked with dirt. The sign above the door had been removed. Most alarmingly, the mingled occult and ethereal aura that always surrounded the building had dimmed. It hadn’t disappeared entirely, but it had faded enough that Gabriel could tell no one had been there in quite a long time.</p><p>A pit of dread filled Gabriel’s stomach. Something was <em> very </em>wrong here. And if past experience was anything to go by, he would be blamed for it.</p><p>He couldn’t run. Aziraphale would find him. Gabriel’s only option, as always, was to be as obedient as possible and hope desperately for mercy.</p><p><em> Hope, </em>not pray. The Almighty had no control over his life anymore. There was only Aziraphale.</p><p>Walking up to the bookshop was Gabriel’s least favorite part of the routine. The building towered above him, the door swinging open like the jaws of a predator waiting to swallow him whole. Every time the door opened in front of him him, Gabriel was forced to wonder if he would ever again be able to leave.</p><p>Except the door didn’t open.</p><p>Gabriel stopped short at the locked door, completely befuddled. The door had never refused to open for him. The shop had become attuned to its owner’s will over the centuries, and it had always been more than happy to admit Gabriel. He had never had to worry about getting <em> into </em>the shop before.</p><p>With the knob stubbornly refusing to turn, he tried knocking with little hope for success. He rapped at the door until his knuckles were sore with increasing desperation, but still the shop did not let him in.</p><p>“Come on,” he said to the door, resting his palm flat against the wood. “Let me in? Please?”</p><p>The door, being a door, said nothing. Any passerby didn’t give a second glance to the strange man talking to a door. </p><p>Holding back frustrated tears, Gabriel leaned his forehead against the door. </p><p>“Please,” he said again, his voice cracking. “He wants me to be in there. He’ll- he’ll hurt me if I don’t. I can’t- just- <em> please…” </em></p><p>Gabriel almost lost his balance as the door swung open. He stumbled half a step into the shop before recovering, the door slamming shut behind him.</p><p>“Thank you,” Gabriel whispered fervently.</p><p>The door continued to be a door and said nothing.</p><p>The bookshop was even darker and more ominous than usual. White cloths covered the furniture. The shelves were completely bare, and a thick layer of dust had settled everywhere. </p><p>Gabriel found himself hoping he wouldn’t have to clean all of this. The thought almost made him laugh.</p><p>The back room was the same as the shop front, the furniture covered in dust and drop cloths. Gabriel couldn’t squash down the horrible dread that something was <em> very wrong </em>and he had absolutely no way to fix it.</p><p>But, as always, there was only one course of action open to him in the end. Gabriel folded his clothes and left them on the table, then got to his knees and settled in to wait.</p><hr/><p>Life was simple for a snake.</p><p>Whenever Crowley felt overwhelmed, he liked to shed his limbs like he shed his skin and take refuge in his serpent form. All those pesky and complicated emotions were filtered through his reptile brain, reduced to basic animal instincts. </p><p>
  <em> Hunt, feed, seek out warmth, sleep. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Run, hide, strike. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Survive. </em>
</p><p>Another bonus of this form: snakes couldn’t cry.</p><p>Crowley had fled from Aziraphale and Raphael with no specific destination in mind, the simple urge to <em> run </em>overpowering all higher function. With a speed born from blind panic, he bolted through the deepest tunnels of Hell, his lithe body slipping through the thinnest cracks and seeking out the darkest corners where he could not be followed.</p><p>When his brain finally kicked back into gear, he found himself wedged into an opening between two rocks near the sulfur pits. The smell brought back unpleasant memories, but the warmth radiating from the rocks was seeping into his cold-blooded body and leaving him delightfully warm and cozy.</p><p>Upon reflection, Crowley felt slightly ashamed of running away like he had. Aziraphale and Raphael were the two people in front of whom he was not afraid to show vulnerability, but still, there was something to be said for showing a little backbone. (As a snake, he was nothing but backbone, but that was neither here nor there.) After all, it wasn’t as though he’d been any danger at that precise moment. If anything, he’d have been safer if he’d stayed with the ones who were sworn to protect him.</p><p>Sadly, his animal instinct had taken over his rational brain, and off he had run.</p><p>Part of him wanted to uncurl from his crevice and sheepishly return straight to the library, but. Well. He had <em> some </em>pride. And this crevice seemed as good a place as any to collect his thoughts.</p><p>The most surprising part, really, was that he <em> wasn’t </em> surprised. No matter how many times Crowley had been held and comforted and reassured during his moments of uncertainty that <em> Gabriel is gone, he’s dead, he’s gone forever and he’s never coming back, </em>some bitter and pessimistic corner of his heart had always refused to believe it.</p><p><em> Gabriel is alive, </em>Raphael had said.</p><p><em> Of course he is, </em> that part of Crowley had responded. <em> I knew it all along. </em></p><p>That same part of him had felt vindicated. The others’ assumption that Gabriel was gone forever had felt naïve and stupidly optimistic. They didn’t know. None of them <em> knew, </em>the way Crowley did. Gabriel would never truly be gone.</p><p>Another surprise was that he wasn’t frightened so much as he was <em> angry. </em> Angry at Gabriel for still holding so much sway over him, irrationally angry at Raphael for being the bearer of bad news, angry at Aziraphale for the mere <em> potential </em> to be hiding such a secret, but most of all, he was angry at God for the sheer <em> unfairness </em>of it all. </p><p>He’d been through this already. He’d endured worse than Hell and come out the other side, battered and bruised but intact. This was supposed to be the happy ending. It was supposed to be <em> over. </em>But apparently, She had decided he hadn’t suffered enough yet.</p><p>Crowley didn’t want to doubt Aziraphale. He wanted to throw his whole heart and soul into blind, unquestioning devotion for the love of his life. But he just wasn’t built that way.</p><p>Crowley watched. He noticed. He <em> questioned. </em>It was both his best and worst quality, the way he questioned everything. And he trusted Aziraphale, of course he did, but it was with the full awareness of the ruthless brutality that his precious angel was capable of.</p><p>He’d killed in the war, Crowley knew. He’d taken up his flaming sword and used it against his former brothers and sisters with barely a hesitation. And he’d killed, more recently, an innocent demon. One whose only crime was getting in Aziraphale’s way while he hunted for Crowley.</p><p>Aziraphale’s opinion of demons had changed since then, of course. He, as well as most of the angels in Heaven, had been examining their prejudices and preconceived notions of their former family members. Aziraphale was truly remorseful for not only the murder but his treatment of demons in general, and Crowley knew he would never again harm one of his kind without just cause.</p><p>Gabriel, however…</p><p>It made a scary amount of sense, no matter how much Crowley wished it didn’t. Aziraphale <em> hated </em>Gabriel, and if he believed Gabriel truly deserved pain and torture on an equal level to Crowley’s, he may very well have decided that he himself was the right person to deliver that punishment. </p><p>Crowley could see it in his mind’s eye. Aziraphale holding Gabriel captive in some dark place, taking out his rage and frustration on the helpless archangel, and then returning to work and seeing Crowley with a bright smile and a hidden, vindictive satisfaction.</p><p>Doubting Aziraphale felt like a betrayal. But <em> not </em>doubting him felt like a hopelessly ignorant mistake.</p><p>For a long time, Crowley stewed and hissed and twisted himself into knots until he finally admitted to himself that he was only thinking in frustrated circles. He slowly untangled himself and unfurled from his hiding space, reverting back to human and stretching out the crick in his back.</p><p>He didn’t really feel up to facing Aziraphale and Raphael again so soon, assuming they were still just sitting in the library and he wouldn’t have to walk around looking for them. What he really wanted was a quiet and familiar place to collect his thoughts and shore up his memories of the good times, surrounding himself in familiar reminders of Aziraphale’s love.</p><p>He knew the perfect place to go.</p><p>After all, he hadn’t visited the bookshop in a long time.</p><hr/><p>Gabriel didn’t know how much time had passed. There were no windows in the back room, so he couldn’t tell time by the shifting light from outside. But it didn’t matter how long it had been, since Gabriel would be waiting as long as Aziraphale saw fit to make him wait.</p><p>He came dangerously close to falling asleep on occasion, and resorted to digging his fingernails into his thighs until blood welled up from the tiny wounds. Any amount of pain in the interim was preferable to what Aziraphale would do if he caught Gabriel sleeping.</p><p>Despite being on high alert for Aziraphale’s arrival at any second, hearing the front door unlock itself sent a lightning bolt of panic through him. He’d thought he had been prepared to endure Aziraphale’s wrath, but when faced with it directly, Gabriel desperately wanted to run back to Heaven and beg the other archangels to protect him.</p><p><em> You’re doing this to protect them, you deserve this, it won’t be so bad if you just cooperate. </em>All of his usual mantras he used to keep himself under control were failing him. He bit his lip until it bled to force down all but the tiniest whimpers that managed to escape him. Tears leaked through the dam that held back the flood, slipping down his face as he trembled.</p><p>There were footsteps outside the door.</p><p>
  <em> Please, no please, I can’t take it, I can’t handle this, please, no more, just no more. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I can’t do this anymore. </em>
</p><p>The door opened.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>All the credit as always goes to Our Lord And Savior dreamsofspike and Vice President of Torture Dacelin.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Reckoning</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Finally, the penny drops.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Many years ago, Crowley had been one complete person. A single creature, whole and unequivocal, with one mind and one more-or-less intact personality.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Fall had burned away a large portion of him, but everything left over was thankfully still intact. Through the timeless eternity in free-fall, his wings and his heart and his connection to the Almighty torn out of him, Crowley had managed to retain his sense of self. Some demons weren’t so lucky. There were still a few of those unfortunate souls, scuttling through the shadows in the deepest forgotten corners of Hell, alive but with no true self-awareness. These creatures, if discovered, were quickly put out of their misery. There was no bringing back what had been lost.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Crowley, at his lowest point, had been dangerously close to becoming one of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Crowley that he had once been, the identity he had built up for himself bit by bit over the centuries, would never have survived Gabriel’s torture. He prided himself on his adaptability, but there was no adapting to this focused and deliberate destruction of his mind. So, in a desperate and involuntary attempt at self-preservation, he’d been shoved out of his own head and replaced with a Crowley that </span>
  <em>
    <span>could </span>
  </em>
  <span>survive.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This Crowley was everything Gabriel wanted him to be: obedient, submissive, and utterly terrified of his master.  Slave Crowley was full of self-loathing and bitter despair, but with a steely determination to survive. No matter how bad things got, Slave Crowley would do whatever it took to keep going for just one more day, one more </span>
  <em>
    <span>minute</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once Gabriel had been taken out of the picture, Slave Crowley had floundered. This version of himself had lost its reason for existence, and a new one had been born in its place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This new Crowley, with Raphael’s gentle coaxing, had sprouted from the ruins of the previous Crowley that Gabriel had left behind. Much like a seedling grows out of a pile of steaming mulch, New Crowley had done his best with the pieces he had to work with.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Timid and fragile but harboring a newfound hope, New Crowley grew like a creeping ivy around the sturdy tree that was Raphael. Too frail to stand on his own, he nevertheless unfurled his new leaves and stretched out his tendrils into something resembling a personality. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Plant Crowley lingered for years, but a new, more independent Crowley eventually took his place. This version of Crowley was the first Crowley in a long time who somewhat resembled his old self, able to banter instead of grovel and confidently saunter around without a care in the world. It was a total charade, of course, but this was the first Crowley who had enough of a handle on himself to control the image he presented to the world. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>New Crowley was fragile, still leaning heavily on his support system of Raphael and Aziraphale, but nonetheless able to stand on his own two feet. New Crowley occasionally wrestled with crippling insecurity and outbursts of uncontrollable rage, but this Crowley was a fighter. For the first time since long before Gabriel had taken him, Crowley went to bat for his own sake. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He needed to forgive himself, he’d realized after a long time. His preexisting self-esteem issues combined with Gabriel’s gaslighting had left him with the deep-seated conviction that everything bad that had ever happened in the world was his fault. After all, he was responsible for the apple, wasn’t he? That was his specialty, setting up a scheme and watching it play out by itself, and the apple was just the first domino in a chain that had been falling since the beginning of time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale and Raphael had managed to reason him out of this worldview. The three of them had had many long discussions over cups of tea and a stack of philosophy books about the concept of free will, the nature of moral determinism, and the other deep questions that humans had been pondering since the beginning. These discussions often veered down fascinating tangents that could keep them occupied deep in conversation for days at a time, leaving the original topic in the dust.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the end, Crowley had come to terms with the fact that his only crime had been asking questions.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>But why is it off-limits? </span>
  </em>
  <span>He’d asked Eve when the tree had come up in conversation. He still remembered the spark that had ignited in her eyes when she felt curiosity for the very first time.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I don’t know, </span>
  </em>
  <span>she’d responded, and he heard the wonder in her voice as she experienced the novel feeling of </span>
  <em>
    <span>not knowing </span>
  </em>
  <span>something. The humans’ world had been so very small back then; there was nothing to not understand. Until Crowley had slithered his way into their perfect sanctuary and ruined everything with his ceaseless questions, just like he’d done in Heaven. Just like he always did.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But that was all in the past. New Crowley was finished apologizing for his own existence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Crowley was no longer a whole, singular, unequivocal person. He had survived, but he was only </span>
  <em>
    <span>intact </span>
  </em>
  <span>by the very loosest definition. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The other versions of Crowley were still alive, all jockeying for space inside his fractured brain, each with their own moods and whims and personality. One Crowley climbed the walls while another huddled in a corner, rocking back and forth. They comforted and attacked one another in turn, hiding themselves away or bursting out of him unexpectedly. Slave Crowley constantly argued with Plant Crowley, tearing him down almost as fast as he could grow. Original Crowley was still there, albeit damaged and quiet, and he piped up with a sarcastic comment now and then. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Crowley had come to terms with the fact that he would always be a jumble of conflicting personalities, never quite meshing back into a single individual. He imagined himself as the crew of a ship, all the pieces of himself working together to stay afloat. Raphael had taught him to visualize himself on the open ocean, surrounded by the gentle swell of waves, the crew(ley) humming a sea shanty in tune with each other as they swabbed decks and trimmed sails.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The method worked, most of the time. Except the times when there was a storm on the high seas and waves swamped the decks and eight of him were trying to grab the helm at once, thunder booming and sailors shouting until the noise in Crowley’s head grew deafening and he couldn’t hear himself think anymore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Crowley had been many people over the years. But there was one constant that would never change.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Deeper down, at the very heart of Crowley, lay a piece of himself that could not be removed. It fueled his soul the same way his angelic Grace used to, and despite Gabriel’s best attempts, it was impervious to damage. Crowley may have hidden it away, surrounded it with walls and pretended it didn’t exist, but still it burned as hot and bright as ever. Without this piece, Crowley could no longer reasonably be called </span>
  <em>
    <span>Crowley. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>This part was labeled </span>
  <em>
    <span>Aziraphale.</span>
  </em>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>Crowley stared at Gabriel.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gabriel stared at the floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>On the outside, Crowley was frozen to the spot, completely immobile. On the inside, though, alarms were blaring and miniature Crowleys ran screaming in all directions. Not a single one of them were in agreement, sending him conflicting commands to </span>
  <em>
    <span>run, fight, beg for mercy, scream for help, run run RUN YOU BLOODY IDIOT-</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>These directives scrambled each other into a hopeless mess, ensuring that none of them managed to get through. Beneath them all, though, one voice whispered, </span>
  <em>
    <span>wait.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Something’s not right here.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Gabriel was on his knees in a painfully familiar position, hunched over and curled into himself like he was trying to take up as little space as possible. His muscles were tense, like he was forcing himself to keep still, and fear radiated off him in waves so strong that Crowley would have been able to smell it even without his reptile senses.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a long minute passed with no sign of movement from Gabriel, the quiet, cautious voice in his head won out over the panicked ones. This was the voice that he had never managed to silence, even in his darkest moments. The voice that urged him to observe, to learn, to question everything, even the Almighty.  This voice would not be satisfied until it found the answers it was looking for.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gabriel was here. In the flesh. That fact was undeniable. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>What he didn’t know was </span>
  <em>
    <span>how, </span>
  </em>
  <span>or </span>
  <em>
    <span>why, </span>
  </em>
  <span>or </span>
  <em>
    <span>what the actual fuck.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>If he gave into his urge to fall to his knees and mirror Gabriel’s pose, to bow to him even as he now bowed to Crowley, it would leave them in a stalemate. Right now, Crowley was in the position of power. And as uncomfortable as that idea made him, it was his opportunity to find his answers and potentially stop a new tragedy in its tracks before it even began.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If someone had been there to stop Gabriel before Crowley had been taken…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No. There was no point dwelling on what-ifs. Crowley had to focus on the here and now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He forced himself to look closer at Gabriel, taking in all the details. The bruised knees, the trembling hands. The prominent ribs and hipbones that shouldn’t even have been possible. An angel’s corporation didn’t change like that- he didn’t need </span>
  <em>
    <span>food, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he had no reason to look </span>
  <em>
    <span>starved…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Gabriel’s skin was smooth, but Crowley could see the damage hidden beneath. His essence was littered with Hellfire scars that concentrated on his back, his wrists, all the sensitive and painful areas. The crisscrossing pattern of scars on his chest might have seemed incidental to the outside observer, but Crowley knew a brand when he saw one. Whoever had been hurting Gabriel had wanted him to </span>
  <em>
    <span>suffer.</span>
  </em>
  <span> It had been deliberate and personal, and the torturer had clearly enjoyed every minute of it.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Aziraphale...</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Crowley felt sick. He wanted to run away again, to hide and never come out so he could pretend he hadn’t seen the truth in front of his eyes.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Crowley had done enough running and hiding already. There was nothing left to do but face his demons head-on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Slowly he crouched down to Gabriel’s level, noticing the way the archangel held perfectly still when he clearly wanted to recoil away. His gaze remained fixed on the ground, his ragged fringe of hair obscuring those violet eyes that still haunted Crowley’s nightmares. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gabriel?” Crowley murmured.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gabriel’s head lifted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their eyes met.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door slammed open.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Crowley!” Aziraphale roared, crossing the room in an instant and yanking him to his feet. He shoved Crowley backward to get between him and Gabriel, nearly knocking the demon over. “Stay </span>
  <em>
    <span>away </span>
  </em>
  <span>from him!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rather than protest his innocence or make a run for it, Gabriel flattened himself to the floor and hid his face in his arms. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t make a move,” Aziraphale warned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Angel-” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not going to let him touch you ever again, Crowley,” Aziraphale growled, his voice an octave deeper than usual. His usual fussy demeanor had been stripped away, leaving only the wrath of a born guardian standing between a threat and the thing he had sworn to protect.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aziraphale, wait-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Get out of the way, Crowley.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t understand, he’s not-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not going to live any longer! Not getting the chance to hurt you ever again!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Angel, stop!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Crowley, </span>
  <em>
    <span>move!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Gabriel risked a glance upward to see Crowley struggling to wrestle Aziraphale’s flaming sword out of his hands. Aziraphale was holding the sword out of reach, clearly unwilling to let Crowley get near the holy flames.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was Gabriel’s worst nightmare come to life again. Crowley standing opposed to Aziraphale, putting himself in harm’s way in order to protect Gabriel from his partner’s murderous rage. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He said… It was supposed to be safe here. He said I would be free.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Something must have gone wrong. It wouldn’t be the first time. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He wished Crowley would cut his losses and run already, leave Gabriel behind and save his own skin instead. It would be better for everyone, really. Every time one of Crowley’s rescue plans backfired, Gabriel suffered for it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tried not to feel resentful about that. Crowley was only trying to help, but Aziraphale was just stronger than him. Stronger than both of them. Stronger than anyone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aziraphale,” a commanding new voice came from the doorway. “Put down the sword.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>All three heads turned to see Raguel striding into the room, flanked by two growling lions. Her aura glowed brightly with righteous power, flooding the room with holy light.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale hesitated, glancing back at the cowering Gabriel. He was gripping Crowley by the wrist, keeping him away as he tried to grab at the sword.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“NOW, Aziraphale.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Raguel didn’t have the same talent for imposing her will on others as Michael did, but she did have two angry lions backing up her authority. The flames flickered, then went out as Aziraphale slowly lowered the sword. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you doing here?” Aziraphale asked in confusion, still holding Crowley’s wrist in his slack grip. “How did you find us?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raguel scratched one of her lions behind the ears. It purred and bumped against her hand affectionately. “Kasha was trailing Gabriel. I let him slip away because I knew he’d come straight here, and I wanted to see how you would respond. I was giving you the benefit of the doubt, but there’s not a lot of wiggle room anymore, is there?” Raguel indicated Gabriel. “Seems like a case closed to me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Guys-” Crowley started, but Aziraphale cut across him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you’ve decided I’m guilty after all?” he said harshly. “For defending Crowley when Gabriel invaded our home?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raguel crossed her arms and arched one eyebrow. “Yes, he’s clearly posing quite the threat right now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gabriel tried to make himself even smaller, just in case Raguel wasn’t being sarcastic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s not-” Crowley tried again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You think he’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>a threat?” Aziraphale gestured wildly with his sword, nearly taking Crowley’s head off. “You of all people know what he’s capable of!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>do </span>
  </em>
  <span>know, better than you, and I’m putting a stop to all of it right now!”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Wait-” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Crowley protested.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aziraphale, put down the sword and come with me,” Raguel commanded. “I’m sorry to do this, but if you don’t come quietly I’ll have to call the guards.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>No, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Gabriel begged in his mind, but his jaw was clenched shut and he couldn’t force out any words. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t do this, please, he’ll kill you, I’m not worth it-</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale wasn’t pointing the sword at Raguel, but it was a close thing. His posture was defensive now, holding a protesting Crowley back with one arm to stay between him and Raguel.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re going to have to call them, then, because I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>not-”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“It’s not him!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Crowley shouted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The room fell silent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale lowered his sword in shock. Raguel’s mouth was hanging open. The lions, who were growling and preparing to pounce, froze in place. Even Gabriel briefly forgot his submissive position to stare dumbfounded at Crowley.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean, it’s not him?” Raguel said after a beat of silence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean </span>
  <em>
    <span>it’s not him,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Crowley repeated. “This isn’t Gabriel.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Aziraphale said. “Of course it’s Gabriel. Who else would it be?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gabriel’s own face was scrunched up in confusion. Crowley gently elbowed his way past Aziraphale to approach the frightened archangel.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Crowley, what are you talking about?” Raguel asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Crowley ignored her, crouching down to face Gabriel again. After a moment’s hesitation, he delicately placed one finger beneath Gabriel’s chin. Gabriel offered no resistance as Crowley lifted his head to meet his eyes again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Crowley’s eyes were a beautiful shade of molten gold. They were filled with compassion, concern, a great deal of anxiety, and numerous other emotions that Gabriel couldn’t name. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Whatever Crowley was looking for, he must have found it. He let Gabriel’s head drop back down and stood up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This isn’t Gabriel,” he declared. “At least not </span>
  <em>
    <span>our </span>
  </em>
  <span>Gabriel. He’s a different person.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Crowley, what are you on about?” Aziraphale said, his anger completely forgotten.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>know </span>
  </em>
  <span>Gabriel,” Crowley said stubbornly. “Better than anyone else. I would recognize him anywhere.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s changed, Crowley,” Raguel pointed out. “I saw into his mind. He’s not the person you knew-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not what I mean,” Crowley insisted. “I can’t explain it, but… this is a different Gabriel. A different version of him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How is that possible?” Aziraphale asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How should I know?” Crowley said irritably. “Alternate realities? Parallel universes? You’re the smart one, you tell me. Point is, you’ve got the wrong guy. This one is innocent.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gabriel wanted to lift his head and protest that he was far from innocent, but no one had asked him to rattle off his list of sins, so he remained silent. He was scrambling to understand what Crowley was saying, but he knew that he would ultimately just have to accept whatever they decided to do to him. Maybe they would feed him to the lions. At least then he would provide some nutritional value.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raguel’s eyes widened. “If this isn’t Gabriel, then-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It wasn’t Aziraphale,” Crowley finished the thought. “Not </span>
  <em>
    <span>mine, </span>
  </em>
  <span>anyway.” He shot Aziraphale a look of triumph and deep relief, as though all was right with the world again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale barely seemed to notice, his brow furrowed in deep thought. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It might be possible,” he said slowly. “I’d need to do some research, but… it’s no less unbelievable than Gabriel somehow coming back from the dead.” He gave Raguel a pointed look. “I take it I’m not under arrest anymore?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raguel’s face soured. “Don’t push your luck. You’re not in the clear yet.” She nudged one of her lions, who padded forward and settled itself on the rug, tail swishing. “Daisha is going to stay and keep an eye on you, so don’t try any funny business. I’m taking Gabriel back to Heaven.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gabriel’s heart stopped. Aziraphale would </span>
  <em>
    <span>never </span>
  </em>
  <span>allow someone to take Gabriel away from him. He waited for Aziraphale to lash out, to threaten, to launch into a self-righteous speech about how he was the only one who could control Gabriel the way he needed to be controlled, how Gabriel didn’t deserve such freedom, he deserved nothing but </span>
  <em>
    <span>pain-</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s fine,” Aziraphale said. “Keep a better eye on him this time, won’t you? I’ll let you know when I find something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You do that,” Raguel agreed. “Gabriel, come with me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gabriel didn’t move.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gabriel?” Raguel snapped her fingers. “Get up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gabriel’s only response was to hunch closer to the floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re sure he’s not the same Gabriel?” Aziraphale said dryly. “This one seems just as bullheaded as ours.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have to tell him to go,” Crowley said quietly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come again, dearest?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’ll only listen to you.” Crowley was looking at Gabriel, but he wasn’t seeing him. Instead, he was far away, looking down at another frightened victim huddled on the floor, unwilling to move despite the promise of consequences. A terrified, broken creature, completely fixated on the one being who held his life in the palm of their hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Crowley?” Aziraphale said, unsettled by the look in his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Crowley didn’t look at him. “Tell him to go with her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale frowned, but nodded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gabriel?” he reluctantly addressed the angel on the floor for the first time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gabriel’s head snapped up, earning a small “oh” from Aziraphale.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You should… go with Raguel to Heaven,” Aziraphale said to him. “Do as she says. And, um, put your clothes back on.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>To everyone’s surprise except Crowley’s, Gabriel scrambled to obey, collecting his prison uniform from where he’d left it and quickly pulling it on. Nervously avoiding the lions, he turned to Raguel and awaited her next command.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, come with me.” Raguel looked troubled, but turned and led Gabriel out of the room. With a last glance at Aziraphale, Gabriel left, followed closely by the hungry-looking lion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Silence fell in the bookshop. Aside from the other lion, which had already gone to sleep on the rug, Aziraphale and Crowley were left alone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Crowley?” Aziraphale said hesitantly, but Crowley was already throwing himself into the angel’s arms. Aziraphale held him tightly and supported him as his shoulders began to shake with sobs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shh, dearest, it’s alright, I promise we’ll figure this out, it’s all going to be alright,” Aziraphale murmured in his ear. “I’m here, I’ve got you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, angel,” Crowley gasped out. “‘M sorry… doubted you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale slid one hand up to tangle his fingers in Crowley’s hair as he held the demon closer. “It’s alright, darling, of course it’s alright, I know it looked bad, you’d have been foolish to ignore the signs.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry,” Crowley was still repeating. “I’m sorry…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale pulled back enough to look Crowley in the eyes. “I understand, dearest, of course I do,” he said soothingly. “Your trust is not something I take for granted. And if I were hiding a secret like this, I certainly wouldn’t deserve it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Crowley buried his face in Aziraphale’s shoulder. “He’s hurting, angel. He’s scared.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale felt a rush of love for his precious demon who, even in his own worst moments, still had overflowing compassion to spare for others. Even the ones who deserved it the least.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, love,” he reassured Crowley again. “We’ll figure this out, I promise. It’s all going to be okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Crowley just clung to Aziraphale and let himself cry.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Recap</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Raguel and Michael finally sit Gabriel down to hear his side of the story.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I wanted to post this on the Repaversary, but I got the covid shot and ended up sleeping it off for a full day. </p><p>On a similar note, Dacelin took the hot potato back and wrote an AU of AU of AU of AU... that's the right number??<br/>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28317054/chapters/75238335</p><p>As always, this is a tribute to DoS and Dacelin, who are the kind of fantastic writers I can only hope to be.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Raguel put Gabriel back in handcuffs as soon as they were in the elevator. Gabriel asked for no explanation, but Raguel offered one anyway.</p><p>“I know you’re not a threat. But the rest of the Host is in a bit of an uproar right now,” she said, idly scratching her lion behind the ears. Gabriel edged away from the lion as it let out a contented growl. “It’ll reassure them to see that we have things under control.”</p><p>Given the angry and frightened looks that every angel gave them as they passed, no one was feeling very reassured. Although part of their unease might have been caused by the massive lion showing its teeth whenever anyone came too close.</p><p>Gabriel stared at the floor and followed closely behind Raguel, trying to ignore the stares of the other angels. He knew what they were all thinking. A disgraced Archangel, brought back to Heaven in chains after a failed escape attempt? If any of the angels had still retained even a shred of respect for him, it was surely gone now. </p><p>The tiny part of Gabriel that was still concerned with his image felt slightly put out. Even during the worst of his humiliation and torment under Aziraphale’s thumb, Gabriel had still been able to keep up his image in front of the Host. He’d stopped wearing his suits, dropped the confident demeanor in favor of becoming hesitant and fumbling, and hidden himself away from his colleagues, but he had always been able to keep up the appearance of being in control. He hadn’t broken down in front of anyone, even Michael. No one saw what he became in front of Aziraphale. No one <em> knew.  </em></p><p>Well, now everyone knew that he had escaped Heavenly custody and been brought back almost immediately. If he hadn’t been a laughingstock before, he certainly was now. Once, he had been the most powerful and respected figure in Heaven. Now he was beneath everyone else, as he should be. And everyone knew it.</p><p>That didn’t mean it didn’t still hurt the place where his pride used to be.</p><p>Raguel brought him back to the same private room in the hospital. Gabriel guiltily wondered if he was taking up space that could have been used by wounded angels who actually needed it. The same two guards were waiting outside the door, and they gave Gabriel dirty looks as he walked past.</p><p><em> Are those guards going to get reprimanded for letting you escape? </em> Aziraphale said in his head. <em> What if they get in trouble? Did you think about that? No, because you never think about anything except yourself. </em></p><p>Raguel’s sigil pin still sat on the bedside table, a shiny reminder that Gabriel had betrayed her kindness. She’d seen Gabriel’s pain, knew how much he deserved his punishment, and still decided to take him under her protection. And he’d repaid her by running away at the first opportunity.</p><p>Gabriel shuddered as he tried to imagine what the consequences would be if he’d run away during any of the times that Aziraphale left him alone for long hours in the bookshop. </p><p>After incapacitating Gabriel with the watch and dragging him back to the bookshop by his hair, Aziraphale would begin with a frenzied beating as he worked out his uncontrollable rage. After he had worked out his aggression and his rage had settled into a simmering fury, Aziraphale would slow down and take the time to really make it <em> hurt. </em>He would switch to the whip, aiming for his face and other sensitive places until Gabriel was a sobbing mess, swearing over and over that he was sorry and he would never dare to defy Aziraphale again.</p><p>Of course, this <em> incessant prattle </em> would only anger Aziraphale further. He would speak the command that rendered Gabriel incapable of making any noise louder than a breath, and probably blindfold him for good measure. Then he would bend Gabriel over his desk and fuck him until his vision went white, with the cuffs on his wrists pinning him to the far corners of the desk so he was pinned down like a bug on a corkboard.</p><p>So far, none of this would have been much worse than Gabriel’s normal daily routine. Aziraphale would want this punishment to be special, to really drill the consequences for Gabriel’s actions into his head. </p><p>He would bring out <em> the stool. </em></p><p>“Gabriel?” Raguel said.</p><p>Gabriel flinched, belatedly realizing she had already said his name several times. He had sunk to his knees automatically, staring blankly at the floor as he awaited her judgment. With an inward cringe, he mentally added his inattention to the list of crimes he was about to be punished for.</p><p>He was drowning in dread, his lungs heavy and his heart pounding. He wished with all his heart that he had been allowed to stay with Aziraphale. His punishment would have been brutal, but Aziraphale was a known quantity. Gabriel had no idea what to expect from Raguel, and the thought frightened him more than any torture implement Aziraphale had used on him.</p><p>“I said, can you sit on the bed?” Raguel repeated, and Gabriel scrambled to obey. He’d been in Raguel’s custody for all of five minutes, and so far he wasn’t exactly endearing himself to her. He’d been belligerent, uncooperative, disobedient. He’d straight up <em> run away. </em>Now, with Aziraphale’s blanket permission for Raguel to exact her justice, Gabriel knew he was doomed.</p><p>Raguel rested one hand comfortingly on Gabriel’s shoulder. He did his best not to flinch.</p><p>“I have to fetch Michael,” she said. “Then we’ll talk. You won’t try to leave again, will you? Now that you have Aziraphale’s permission to be here?”</p><p>Gabriel nodded hurriedly, eager to assure her that he would never disobey again, that he would prove himself given the tiniest chance. Anything to avoid making things worse.</p><p>“Good. I’ll be right back.” With one last pat to the shoulder, Raguel turned away and left the room. Gabriel couldn’t tell if she had locked the door behind her, but he wasn’t about to check. He was going to sit right here and be as good as he possibly could.</p><p>Raguel’s lion paced back and forth, eyeing Gabriel like he was a tasty morsel. Gabriel swallowed nervously, wondering if the lions were as well-trained as he himself was. Or if Raguel <em> wanted </em>the lion to tenderize him a bit before the real pain started.</p><p>Gabriel fidgeted with the handcuffs, half expecting to feel the slow burn of Hellfire eating away at his wrists. But Heaven had put back up the façade of fairness and mercy, at least for now. They wouldn’t torture him with Hellfire implements as long as they were “following policy.”</p><p>For a few long minutes, Gabriel stared at the lioness as it settled on the floor and stared right back. Its amber eyes almost reminded him of Crowley, but there was a cold predatory light in its gaze. Gabriel wanted to hide under the bed.</p><p>All those eons he had spent putting himself on a pedestal, separating himself from the other angels and socializing with no one because he was too <em> good </em> to associate himself with the lower spheres, and Gabriel had never felt more alone in Heaven than he did right now.</p><p>Crowley had promised to free him. But now, Gabriel had nothing left.</p><p>With nothing to occupy him but his thoughts, Gabriel struggled to put together the pieces of his limited knowledge. Upon first glance, it seemed as though Crowley’s plan had failed, landing him right back in Aziraphale’s clutches. But then, Gabriel had started to notice the differences. The abandoned bookshop, the presence of Raphael and Raguel, who had long since distanced themselves from Heaven, the way Aziraphale had deferred to Crowley instead of bulldozing right over him… things were definitely different.</p><p><em> “This isn’t Gabriel,” </em> Crowley had said. “ <em> At least, not </em> our <em> Gabriel.” </em></p><p>Even someone as simpleminded and slow on the uptake as Gabriel could understand that this wasn’t the world he called home. He had traveled to some other world where their Gabriel was long dead, and he had been mistaken for the old one. </p><p>Gabriel didn’t know if it was intentional or a coincidence that he had been transported to a world that lacked its own Gabriel. He couldn’t begin to guess if the world he’d ended up in had been random, or if one with a Gabriel-shaped vacuum had pulled him in to fill the available space.</p><p>Evidently, this dead Gabriel had been almost as bad as Gabriel’s own self, for Heaven to hate him this badly. Even Michael… he couldn’t begin to guess the extent of the other Gabriel’s crimes.</p><p>In the end, Crowley’s plan had worked after all. True to his word, he had sent Gabriel far enough away that his Aziraphale could not reach him. It wasn’t Crowley’s fault that Gabriel had landed in a world with an Aziraphale that hated him even more than the last one.</p><p>After all, that would probably be true for any world Gabriel could possibly end up in.</p><hr/><p>By the time Raguel came back with Michael in tow, Gabriel was teetering on the knife’s edge of panic. The longer he spent waiting, the more he could imagine all the horrible possibilities. </p><p>Gabriel was still sitting on the bed, fists clenched in his pant legs, his breathing shallow and rapid. He held perfectly still and said nothing as Raguel and Michael conjured chairs and sat across from him, not quite in arm’s reach. Raguel’s lion stretched sleepily and stood up, winding around Raguel’s legs and sniffing at Michael.</p><p>“Gabriel,” Michael said after an awkward pause. Gabriel didn’t look up at her.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” she said, reaching out as if to put a hand on his knee, then thinking better of it and pulling back. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I didn’t know… I should have realized something was going on. I should have protected you. You didn’t deserve that.”</p><p>Gabriel didn’t say anything, though he wanted to correct her. Of course he deserved it, that shouldn’t even be in question. But then… this was apparently not the same Michael he knew. She didn’t realize yet that he deserved everything she had given him and worse.</p><p>Well, she would find out soon enough.</p><p>Michael glanced at Raguel. Raguel raised an eyebrow. </p><p>“So, Gabriel,” Raguel picked up the conversation when it became clear that Gabriel wasn’t about to respond. “Do you feel up to telling us what happened back where you came from? What led to… this?” She vaguely indicated Gabriel’s tragic condition.</p><p>Gabriel squeezed his eyes shut, biting back a tiny noise of distress.</p><p>“If you’re not ready, we can wait,” Raguel assured him. “But we have to talk about it sooner or later. We wouldn’t want to inadvertently do something to hurt you.”</p><p><em> No, you should only hurt me on purpose, </em>Gabriel thought bitterly.</p><p>“You don’t have to go into detail yet,” Raguel continued. “But we need to know what Aziraphale did to you and why. We’re just trying to help you here.”</p><p><em> Helping. </em>The last person to try to help him had been Crowley, and all Crowley had succeeded in doing was perpetually making everything worse for both of them.</p><p>Gabriel didn’t want to tell them. The thought of explaining his sins made him sick, and the looks they would give him once they knew what he had <em> done… </em>he wanted to hide under the bed and never come out.</p><p>But he had been given a direct order, and he knew what Aziraphale would do to him once he learned of Gabriel’s disobedience. As always, there was no choice but to obey.</p><p>“I…” he started haltingly. His voice was hoarse from crying. “I guess it started with Armageddon.”</p><p>“Armageddon?” Michael and Raguel said together.</p><p>“Yeah…” Gabriel glanced guiltily between them. “You… didn’t have that here?”</p><p>Michael gave a half laugh. “No, we signed a treaty with Hell ages ago, after-” she cut herself off. “Never mind. It’s not important.” </p><p><em> After what? </em>Gabriel wanted to ask, but asking questions was only a good idea if he didn’t fancy keeping all of the blood in his body.</p><p>Still, he was intrigued. Something had happened in this world, something that hadn’t happened on his own, and Gabriel could only assume it had involved his other self. Heaven and Hell were at peace in this world, and Gabriel was dead. There was no way those two facts weren’t connected. </p><p>“Well… we almost did.”</p><p>“Almost?” Raguel pressed.</p><p>Gabriel took a deep breath. “It was finally happening. The antichrist was born, there was going to be a war, good was going to triumph over evil…” he noticed that Michael looked slightly wistful. “It was all going according to the Great Plan. I was… I thought we were doing the right thing. We were the good guys, right?” He looked up at Michael and Raguel pleadingly. “I didn’t think it was possible for us to be wrong. I never even considered…”</p><p>Gabriel stifled a sob with his fist pressed against his mouth. Michael and Raguel waited patiently for him to pull himself together.</p><p>Finally, Gabriel took a deep breath and continued. “Aziraphale-” his voice cracked. “Aziraphale was supposed to watch over the antichrist, influence him to our side. But he and Crowley were seeing each other behind our backs, and they decided they didn’t want the war to happen at all, and they conspired to… raise him differently, or, raise a different boy? I’m not sure what they did, actually. But when the time came, the boy rejected his destiny and refused to start the war. It was all for nothing…”</p><p>Despite himself, Gabriel was still a little bit sad that all of their hard work had gone to waste. Even though he was grateful to Aziraphale for preventing him from making the worst mistake in the universe and teaching him the error of his ways… still. <em> So many </em>motivational speeches, hours spent rehearsing and practicing, down the drain.</p><p>“What happened next?” Raguel asked, and Gabriel realized he had been silent for too long.</p><p>“Well… the war was canceled so suddenly, all our plans failed, everyone was confused, they were angry- <em> I </em>was angry, I was just- looking for someone to blame, anyone except myself.” His voice was tinged with bitterness now as he remembered his self-righteous anger and complete refusal to admit any sort of personal fault for the matter.</p><p>Raguel made an educated guess. “So you blamed Aziraphale?”</p><p>Gabriel nodded miserably. “I told the Host that he was entirely responsible for ruining the Great Plan and snatching our ultimate victory out of our grasp. He loved the humans, he loved Crowley, he just didn’t want them to die… and I called him a traitor. I turned everyone against him.</p><p>“Aziraphale was everything the rest of us should have been. Loving Her creations like She told us to in the Beginning, but we all forgot it somewhere along the way. Except him. I think I just… wanted to get rid of the reminder that… there was more that I <em> should </em> have been. I wanted to keep up the illusion that I was already perfect and didn’t need to improve. I hated him for being <em> better </em>than me.” </p><p>Michael and Raguel waited patiently for Gabriel to choke back his tears and compose himself enough to continue.</p><p>“So I… tried to have him executed.” He could barely force the words out.</p><p>“Tried?” Michael repeated.</p><p>“Tried. With Hellfire. Colluding with demons… accusing him of doing the same… such a hypocrite-” Gabriel couldn’t stop the sobs now, pressing his fist against his mouth and squeezing his eyes shut. </p><p>He hadn’t ever told anyone the story like this. He hadn’t had to <em> explain </em>himself to anyone who hadn’t been there, to try to justify his actions that he now knew were utterly unjustifiable.</p><p>Michael seemed to have run out of patience with Gabriel’s breakdowns.</p><p>“What happened next?” she demanded, leaning forward in her chair. “How did he survive? What did he do?”</p><p>“I…” Gabriel couldn’t say it. He was at war with himself. <em> Never tell, </em> Aziraphale had drilled into him in agonizing ways. <em> Never tell anyone. </em>Keeping it a secret was so deeply ingrained into him that he wasn’t sure he could bring himself to say it out loud even if he wanted to. But he had been ordered under no uncertain circumstances to tell the story. But Aziraphale might punish him for telling, but he had lent Raguel his authority, which meant he would be mad if Gabriel disobeyed Raguel… but Aziraphale’s authority still outweighed Raguel’s, and he wouldn’t be pleased if he obeyed an order from her that contradicted one of his own. Raguel had tacitly passed the authority on to Michael. Could she even do that? Would Aziraphale be displeased if he obeyed an order from Michael? But then again, this was a different Aziraphale somehow. One without the same history. Did it even matter? He still hated Gabriel, and he had been more than willing to take up the mantle of authority and boss Gabriel around like he had been doing it all along. </p><p>Where did that leave Gabriel?</p><p>In the end, as always, the choice was taken from him. </p><p>“Stop crying and <em> tell us, Gabriel!” </em>Michael commanded, the compulsion in her voice pushing heavily on him. He tried to obey, his willpower already the strength of wet tissue paper, but he was racked with heaving sobs that forced their way out of his body. It was impossible to stop, no matter how much Michael’s command weighed on him, crushing him under the pressure until he struggled to breathe and something had to give way-</p><p>“Michael, stop!” Raguel shouted, and Gabriel felt the pressure ease. He doubled over and clutched his chest, struggling to fill his lungs. Raguel’s lion, sensing the tension, raised its hackles and growled.</p><p>“You’re in no state to continue right now,” Raguel said kindly, shooting a scowl at Michael. “We’re going to give you a break for now. Calm yourself down and try to get some rest, alright? I’ll check on you in a while.You don’t have to keep going until you’re ready.”</p><p>Gabriel was too distraught to respond as Michael and Raguel stood stiffly and left the room. Raguel paused to pat him softly on the shoulder.</p><p>“You did a good job,” she reassured him. “You’re doing great. Just get some rest.”</p><p>And then she was gone. The lion, after a few moments of agitated pacing, settled down on the floor and went to sleep.</p><p>Gabriel was left alone with his thoughts once again.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Raphael: "I haven't been seen since chapter four, am I dead?"</p><p>Me: "You be quiet and wait over there, you'll get your turn."</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>https://discord.gg/egTqWhHKDH</p></blockquote></div></div>
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